


The Dragonborn Epic, Vol. 1: Skyrim

by GamerDragon13



Series: The Dragonborn Epic [1]
Category: Devil May Cry, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Magic: The Gathering, The Lord of the Rings Online
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamerDragon13/pseuds/GamerDragon13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soon-to-be 17-year-old Belinda Scale has returned to the first Plane she's ever visited: Mundus, the world Nirn. Upon landing in the wintry land of Skyrim, Belinda is caught in the crossfire of a civil war. Meanwhile, the dragons have return and are wrecking havoc upon the war, led by the evil Alduin the World-Eater. In order to save the world and fullfill her destiny as Dragonborn, Belinda must ally herself with Sieghard Wolf-Son, the lycanthropic Harbinger of the Companions and Dione Nightingale, Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild and Archmage of the College of Winterhold. Standing in her way is Nathiel, a malicious assassin who has sought to slay Belinda since she was a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Storm

Darkwater Crossing, Eastmarch Hold  
Skyrim  
The 15th of Last Seed, 4E201

Belinda Rosalyn Scale was a Planeswalker, had been since age 7. It had been for almost ten years now. She was 16, about turn 17, and thankfully had managed to create a double to cover her absence. Since doing so, she had more freedom. It enabled her to actually travel more, see more of the Multiverse and all it had to offer. Over the last couple months, she had been to Ravnica, Innistrad, Tarkir, Theros, and Fiora. She performed tricks on the streets, pickpocketed nobles, and collected coin to experience what some of these worlds had to offer, especially their cuisines. As the thoughts of her dinner from last night came to mind though, she frowned. Ravnica most certainly had some excellent dining experiences, but eating at that Golgari establishment was probably not a great idea.

She had done a lot of growing since her Spark ignited. She was lovely with long, silky, ebony-black hair that she wore in a tightly-woven French braid with fluffy bangs over her forehead and a long side bang with a white satin ribbon tied around the middle; a pair of silver-rimmed, amethyst-purple eyes behind wide, marquis-shaped lashes; and pale ivory skin, a beauty mark on her left cheekbone. On this day, she arrived on the plane of Nirn wearing a purple, sleeveless turtleneck top; blue denim skinny jeans; black leather boots and matching, black leather bracers; a black leather corset, a green sash, long red fingerless gloves, a gray trench coat, and an amethyst pendant on a silver chain. It was a testament to her love of color and her connection to all the colors of mana.

She landed in a settlement. It consisted of a stone building with a roof made of wood and hay with fogged up windows and a wooden door; a few tents around a fire pit, and a mine. A mining community a decade or so old. She looked around, spotting a sign on the nearby bridge. Goldenrock Mine, Darkwater Crossing. If she remembered correctly, it was a corundum mine, and about a day or two from the nearest city. Three at most if she wanted to travel to Whiterun; four days to Riften, five to Winterhold, a week to Solitude or Markarth. Maybe more. Belinda sighed. Even longer if she chose to leave the province. Choices!

As she stood there, thinking about where to go, she heard the clopping of hooves. Large hooves; Skyrim Warhorses most likely, or Clydesdales where she was from. She looked to the west where the clopping was coming from. There was a group of men and women riding down the road. Belinda rolled her eyes and turned back to the signs, trying to decide where to go. It was when they started passing her that all Hell broke loose. Curse you, Murphy’s Law.

Imperial soldiers appeared from above and from the brush. These people had walked into a trap, and Belinda was caught in the middle! Belinda looked around wildly, not sure who to fight or not. Perhaps flight? An Imperial soldier rushed her, sword in his right hand and a shield on his left arm. Belinda had her answer. She conjured a sword of mithril in her left hand and arcane flames in her right. She raised her sword in defense and deflected the soldier's assault. The soldier raised his shield, circling her. Belinda's gaze followed his movements like a hawk. Finally, he charged again, and Belinda blasted him with fire. The soldier fell to the ground, screaming and rolling around to put the flames out. Belinda then pierced his heart with her sword. The fight continued around her and she joined in the fight against the Imperial soldiers, until someone or something slammed into the back of her head and knocked her unconscious.  
\---  
Helgan, Falkreath Hold  
Skyrim  
The 17th of Last Seed, 4E201

Belinda's head was throbbing, her eyelids were heavy, her clothes were itchy, her mouth was disgustingly dry, she was sure her period had started, and she really needed to piss. All such wonderful things to wake up to! With a groan, she opened her eyes and shivered. Her surroundings were different. She was now south of the Throat of the World, surrounded by far more towering pines and denser foliage. Snow lay scattered in clumps on the ground, but was a wet, heavy kind as was normal of Last Seed, which would be August on her homeplane. She was now in Falkreath Hold. She could literally feel the flow of green, blue, and red mana. She started gathering the magic, trying to refill her diminished stock. Within her, the mana mingled into a colorless form, ready to change into whatever she needed.

Next thing on her list: Get this foul taste out of her mouth. She lifted her hands. Her hands were bound in a way that would make what she intended hard. She frowned, thinking, well, piss, shit, ass, balls, and twats! She had a vulgar mouth, and enjoyed the faces of those around her when she spouted her vulgarity. It brought her a certain glee, especially on planes where women were expected to be polite and proper and nothing else. Alas, this position did not. She started twisting her wrists around to cup her hands and conjure water to them. Water filled her hands, magic keeping it from falling out. She drank then, washing the foul taste from her mouth. With a grunt, she twisted her hand back around. The man across from her turned to face her.

"You're finally awake?" he asked. He was a Nord, tall, muscular, blue eyes, and long, wild blond hair. Standard traits. He wore a shirt of iron chainmail under a padded leather tunic that was trimmed with fur; a blue wrap held in place by brown leather belts, leather pants, and fur and leather pants. He was attractive. Very attractive.

“Why yes, yes I am," Belinda flirted, batting her lashes.

The Nord man blushed. "Um..." He was at a loss for words. He finally found what he had intended on asking: "Are you okay?"

Belinda sighed. "Well, let's see, I have a massive headache, I need to wash my face, these nasty-ass clothes itch, I really need to piss, and my twat is full of blood, so I in case you didn't notice, I am really, really, really not okay right now," she answered, counting each problem off on her fingers. “Sorry…” This Nord was clearly a nice fellow.

"Shut up, back there," the man driver the carriage snapped. He grabbed his waterskin and started drinking.

"Oh, go fuck a duck," Belinda retorted.

The man, a Cyroldiilic, nearly choked on his water. It went flying from his mouth. He coughed and pounded on his chest. "The fuck you just say?!" he demanded, turning to her, brown eyes wide.

"I'm not much of a driver, but shouldn't you be watching the road?" Belinda asked, smirking.  
The carriage went over a large rock, shaking it. The Cyrodiilic yelped in alarm and fell. A set of hooves sped up alongside the carriage and the horse's rider took control of the carriage. He whistled, bringing to the procession to a halt.

"What's going on?!" came an old, weathered voice.

"Sorry, General Tullius!" said the soldier on the horse who rode up. "Altus lost control of the carriage and fell off!"

The soldier, Altus, climbed back into the seat, grumbling. It was all Belinda could do not to burst out laughing. Of course, she and the blond Nord did laugh. The soldier on the bay horse, also a Nord, started laughing too. They continued on after that, the procession making it to community inside a wall. They passed a man wearing shinning, gold-colored armor and a red cape on a bay horse, conversing with a tall, gold-skinned Elf woman in black robes, also on a horse.

"Look at him; General Tullius the military governor," the blond Nord huffed, "and it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

"Not a huge fan of a bunch of arrogant, pretentious, self-entitled prigs?" Belinda asked.

"Not really, no," the Nord answered. "And don't think little of me, but you use some... Rather large words."

"Ah, I don't look down on anyone because of grammar," Belinda assured. "We'll see how much I like you."

"Assuming we don't die first," the Nord muttered.

"Mara, Shor, Dibella, Kynareth, Divines... Please help me..." another Nord pleaded, looking to the sky.

Belinda finally noticed the other two men in the carriage with them. One was a scrawny, yet tall Nord with near-black hair, brown eyes, and dirt-covered skin. Like Belinda, he had been thrown into raggedy clothes that ill-fit and looked uncomfortable. The other one... Belinda recognized him as the tall, proud Nord who had led the group Eternities only know how long ago outside of Darkwater Crossing. He was bound like Belinda, the other blond Nord, and the dark brunette across from him. But unlike them, he was gagged. His blond hair was darker, a dirty blond and his eyes had stormy blue-grey color. He had a light tan. He dressed in storm-blue, black, and dark grey with black bear fur on his shoulders. He looked very attractive as well.

"Who are they Daddy? Where are they going?" Belinda heard a boy ask his father. She looked to the porch of a house they were passing. There was a woman in a green dress, a man in leathers (a hunter perhaps...), and a boy wearing blue pants, a red tunic, and leather shoes. He had chin-length blond hair, blue-green eyes, and was as pale as any Nord.

"You need to go inside the house, Little Cub," his father, the man in leathers, said. His voice was stern.

"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers," the boy pined.

"Inside the house. Now," his fathered ordered.

From where she sat on the bouncing carriage, she could see the despair and fear behind his angry, stern eyes. This man was trying to shelter his son from the approaching horror. He loved his son, and it was clear he didn't care for the empire and what it had become. But his son loved to watch the soldiers. If he remained outside, his view of soldiers would be tarnished, tainted by what was to come. And yet, for some reason, the boy was etched into her mind. Would he be important? Would he play a major part in this beautiful world of Nirn? Was he...?

"Yes, Papa," the boy sighed, getting up and heading into the house.

The two carriages pulled to a halt, the filthy, dark-haired Nord exclaiming, "Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think? End of the road," the light blond Nord replied.

"No, this can't be happening! This can't be happening!" the dark-haired Nord cried.

"Get these prisoners off the wagons! One at a time! Move it!" shouted a woman in steel imperial armor.

"Let's not keep the gods waiting," the light blond Nord said to Belinda, the two of them rising.

Belinda had the mana, and the motive, to Planeswalk the Hell out of there. But something compelled her to stay. She wanted to see how this ended. Once she was on the chopping block, she was gone. She'd come back eventually, once things calmed down. Give it a month or two. Okay, so not more than a week! Nirn was too interesting! And certainly her favorite plane. It had been the first plane she ever visited when her spark ignited.

The dirty blond Nord jumped down as the female solider shouted, "Approach the block when you name is called!"

Belinda jumped down, the light blond Nord behind her, sighing. "Empire loves their damned lists..." He jumped down.

"Well, it's nice to know who I'll be sharing the block with," Belinda joked, smiling lightly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're strange?" the light blond asked, raising a brow.

Belinda smirked, flashing a strangely sexy, yet terrifying and amused toothy smile. "I never tire of hearing it," she answered, and chuckled.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," said the brunette Nord who had been riding the bay horse earlier. He had a book resting on his left arm, a quill in the other. He looked rather distraught, exhausted.

The gagged, dirty blond Nord moved toward the block. He stood tall and proud, trying to look strong for his people. It was unfair that he had to be gagged and bound in such a way.

"It's been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," the light blond said.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the brunette Nord sighed, seemingly more upset.

The light blond Nord followed Jarl Ulfric, also with pride.

"Lokir of Rorikstead," the brunette Nord called.

"NO! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir, the dark-haired Nord, shouted. He started running. No one stopped him. The brunette and the female soldier didn't turn. Belinda kept a straight face. Even if she had tried to stop him, he wouldn't listen to her. Cowards like this Lokir never learned, and when they ran, they died. Belinda had learned long ago to just let them go. As expected, the imperial archers shot him. Lorkir fell face first into the cobblestone road, three arrows protruding from his back. Belinda didn't flinch.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the female soldier demanded.

Her response was silence.

"Wait, who are you?" the brunette Nord asked, looking to Belinda.

She stared at him, raising a brow. "What's wrong, little soldier? Not on your list?" she asked. "Maybe I'm just here by mistake?" She gave a devious little smile.

The brunette Nord looked at his ledger. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, Ralof of Riverwood, and Lokir of Rorikstead. "Bettina! I need to see your ledge!" he shouted. A female soldier in the standard leathers came over with her book and read: Gunjar of Karthwasten, Woden Red-Axe, Frig of Fox-Child, and Yngvi. This confused him. He turned to Belinda again. 

"Name?"

"Belinda Scale."

The brunette Nord checked the ledgers again. "Captain, what should we do?" he asked. "She's not on either of the lists."

"Forget the lists; she goes to the block," the captain answered.

"Shouldn't we consult General Tullius-?" the leather-clad female asked.

"To the block!" the captained said again, making the young Cyrodiilic flinch.

Gods, what a bitch, Belinda thought.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," the brunette Nord said to Belinda. "I'll make sure your remains are returned to... Why are you from?"

"Nowhere and everywhere," Belinda answered, her mischievous smirk remaining, "and that is where I'll go. If not, just dump my ashes in the ocean." She approached the block. Of course, behind that mischievous look of hers, her thoughts kept going back to needing to use the bathroom. By Urza's motherfucking tits! I'm going to get kidney disease from this, she thought irritably. She went to stand in the lineup of Nords doomed to the chopping block. Ulfric Stormcloak stood before the soldier in the golden armor. General Tullius was it?

"Ulfric Stormcloak," the man, Tullius, began, "some here in Helgan call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne! You started this war! Plunged Skyrim in to chaos and now the empire's going to put you down and restore the peace."

Belinda snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that," she laughed.

The imperial soldiers glared at her as a thunderous roar echoed across the sky.

"What was that?" the brunette Nord asked.

Belinda knew.

"It was nothing; carry on," the gold-glad soldier answered.

"Yes, General Tullius!" the captain said, saluting. She turned to a woman in orange robes with a yellow hood. "Give them their last rights," she ordered.

The woman nodded and raised her hands, saying, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the Eight Divines upon, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-."

The one called Yngvi rolled his eyes and cut her off with, "Oh, for the love of Talos! Shut up and let's get this over with!" He walked up to the chopping block.

"As you wish," the priestess responded, irritated. She walked off, offended.

The captain walked up behind Yngvi as he shouted, "Come on! I haven't got all morning!" The captain shoved him to his knees and pressed him against the block. The execution raised his axe. "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials! Can you say the same?!" The executioner brought his axe down, cleaving Yngvi's head clean off. The civilians gasped in alarm.

"Oh, come on! You idiots knew it was coming!" Belinda shouted to them. "And besides, don't you have anything better to do?!" The civilians blinked, exchanging glances and mutters. "Fucking ingrates," Belinda muttered. "They're all sheep."

"Next, the mouthy one!" the captain snapped, sick of Belinda's crap.

"Me?" Belinda asked. "Okay, okay, I'll-." She was cut off by the roaring. "I was trying to say something witty, asshole!" she shouted to the sky.

"What is that?" the brunette Nord asked.

You really wanna know? Belinda thought.

"I said, next. Prisoner."

Belinda rolled her eyes and walked up to the chopping block, readying to Planeswalk. She was smiling. They wouldn't know what hit them! Oh, how she wished she could see the looks on their faces! The executioner returned to the block as Belinda was shoved to her knees, cheek pressed against warm blood. The executioner raised his axe. Belinda was already on the edge of the Plane, beginning, but she stopped as a massive, black dragon flew in from over the mountains.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" General Tullius exclaimed.

"Dragon!" the one called Frig shouted.

That's not Paar-! She was cut off when the dragon landed on the tower behind the executioner, causing the ground to shake. Her purple eyes locked with the black dragon's red eyes. It was worse. The black dragon then shouted, the sky darkening and the world around her bursting into flame. She blacked out, thinking, I really hate my life sometimes...


	2. Unbound and Unleashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda has a rough day of dealing with a dragon, idiocy between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks, collapsing fortresses, and giant spiders.

Helgan, Falkreath Hold  
Skyrim  
The 17th of Last Seed, 4E201

She was out maybe a minute or two. But she instantly knew two things: One, she no longer needed to use the bathroom and two, it was raining fire! Speaking of fire, she looked up to see a flaming boulder falling. And it was going to land on her. Thankfully, someone pulled her out of the way and they went flying back a couple feet when the burning rock smashed into the ground. She looked over to her savior. Ralof.

"Thank you," she said with a groan.

“No problem, Ralof grunted. “Let's go, the gods won't give us another chance.”

Belinda nodded and managed to push herself up. Ralof slowly got up, wrapped an arm around Belinda's shoulders, and they ran into a nearby tower. Ulfric, Gunjar, Frig, and Woden were hiding inside. Frig and Gunjar were on the floor, Frig clutching at a wound. Gunjar's shoulder was cut and burned, gushing blood and blistering horribly. "Untie me," Belinda told Ralof, who didn't even hesitate. He grabbed a dagger from nearby and cut the rope holding Belinda’s wrists together. She rubbed her wrists, sighing in relief. She went to Frig, muttering a healing spell. Natural magic, like what Belinda had, was different from what she was doing. This spell was just that: A spell. Arcane magic worked a little differently and allowed Belinda to cast spells when she didn’t have access to physical skin-to-skin contact with another mage.

Belinda was an Astralamancer, not to be confused with Astronomancer. Belinda had the ability to tap the spirits of mages via physical contact. In lamest terms, she was a magical mimic. Whatever a mage knew, she knew. There were restrictions: She could only mimic the person's level of knowledge, she could only mimic one person at a time, and she couldn't mimic racial abilities or skills like Enchanting, Smithing, and Alchemy; they had to be learned, like arcane magic had to be learned. So if she needed to read minds, she needed to touch a telepath to mimic his or her ability to do so. And it always angered her when she found children who didn't realize their true talents because their parents were magic-suppressing tyrants! Inexperience had, more than once, caused her several injuries. The more limited the knowledge, the greater the risk for injury  
She heard Frig sigh in relief as the healing spell washed over the wound. It was a strong enough healing spell that it clean out impurities, thus removing the need to clean the wound out physically. Belinda loved magic, especially when it was convenient.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked.

"Legends don't burn down villages," answered Ulfric, his voice deep. "We need to move, NOW!"

"Up through the tower!" Ralof said.

"I think up is a bad idea," Belinda pointed out.

"We can jump onto the roof of the inn beside the tower," Ralof told her, grabbing her and towing up the stone steps.

"I need to heal the other one! And I still say this is a bad idea-!" The black dragon's head smashed through the wall, glaring with his fierce red eyes. "GET DOWN!" Belinda shouted, her and Ralof ducking as a jet of flame shot at them from the dragon's mouth. "Shit..." Belinda hissed. "This is not a good day." 

"No kidding," Ralof agreed as the black dragon flew away. They ran to the gaping hole in the wall, looking out at the burning village. The sky was red, black, and gray, meteorites smashing into buildings and people. Animals and people were running for their lives. "See the inn there?" Ralof asked, pointing to the building next to the tower. Parts of the building were still on fire, leaving a massive hole in the roof.

"I do," Belinda answered.

"Jump through the roof and get going," Ralof ordered. “I’ll catch up when I can.”

Belinda took a few steps back and ran, jumping out the hole in the wall and through the hole in the roof. She bent her legs and feet to take the force of the landing. When she did, she rolled and got onto her feet. There was a hole in the second story floor and she dropped down, seeing the brunette Nord and another man, another soldier. She decided she would run past them and sprinted. She made it past the brunette Nord and his fellow soldier, only to see the boy from earlier, kneeling beside his wounded father. The black dragon landed behind the boy, forcing Belinda to skid to a halt, chanting arcane words she raising her hand and firing an ice spear from her palm at the dragon's face. The dragon recoiled, roaring angrily.

"Do me proud son, now go!" the boy's father grunted. The boy nodded, crying, and fled as the dragon unleashed a jet of flame upon them both. Belinda got between the flames and the boy, unharmed and unfazed. The brunette Nord and the soldier hid behind a boulder. Belinda heard the hunter die beside her. She turned to see the boy unharmed and fleeing to the boulders. She returned her gaze to the angry black dragon. The beast lunged at her and Belinda jumped to the side. The dragon grabbed a mouthful of dirt, spitting it out in disgust. It flew off again.

"Gunnar, take care of Hamming; I'm going to find Tullius and join him in the defense," the brunette Nord said to the soldier.

"Gods guide you, Hadvar," Gunnar said, taking the boy Hamming and fleeing.

Hadvar turned to Belinda. "Still alive, Prisoner? Stay close to me if you want to stay that way," he said.

"Yes, because I didn't just miraculously survive a dragon trying to flame broil me," Belinda replied, following Hadvar anyway. They hopped over some burning planks into an alley, the black dragon landing on the wall above them to blast a mage with a jet of fire. Belinda and Hadvar had pressed themselves against the wall in time to miss being struck by the razor-sharp wing-claws and swatted by the massive wings. The dragon took off again and Hadvar and Belinda cut through a destroyed building to where General Tullius and several imperial archers and battlemages were trying to fight the dragon.

"Into the keep, soldier! We're leaving!" shouted General Tullius.

"It's you and me, Prisoner; quickly!" Hadvar shouted to Belinda.

“I HAVE A NAME DAMNIT!” she shouted before following him under an archway as Ralof reappeared, an axe in hand.

"Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!" Hadvar shouted. He lunged at Ralof and the two started fighting.

Belinda scoffed, rolling her eyes. She approached the two men casually, grabbed them by their ears, and knocked their heads together. Still holding their ears in a vice-like grip, she chided, "In case you brainless oafs missed it, there's a fucking dragon flying overhead killing everyone. I don't know what pissed in your panties, and it's honestly none of my business. But perhaps you two should focus on getting the fuck out of here alive!" That's when an imperial soldier went splat in front of them. Belinda released Hadvar and Ralof, sprinting for the keep doors. The two Nords exchanged glances, looked at the body, and then followed hastily.

Belinda was sitting down inside, taking deep breaths. Seeing her breathless hit the two men and they realized how exhausted they were. It was just the three of them, winded and weary.

"Ugh, I need a bath like bad," Belinda groaned. "I smell like... Never mind. You really don't want to know what I smell like."

"I can smell it from here," Ralof chuckled.

"Oh, fuck you," Belinda laughed.

Soon, Hadvar joined in their laughter.

When they finally fell silent, Belinda rose. "Okay, enough dicking around," she said. "We gotta get out of here." The two men nodded, rising also. They went to a barred door and Belinda tested the handle before Hadvar could say anything. "Fan-fucking-tastic. It's locked and someone took my lockpicks when I was changed into these shit-stain rags. Seriously, what the fuck?! What was wrong with my clothes?! Ulfric Stormcloak and his soldiers weren't changed!"

"I don't know," Hadvar said. “I have a key though.” He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

“Why didn’t you say so before?” Belinda asked.

“You didn’t ask,” Hadvar answered.

“That’s a cheap answer,” Belinda grumbled.

They ran down a flight of stairs to a hall. The ground shook violently and Hadvar and Ralof grabbed Belinda's shoulders and yanked her back as the ceiling collapsed. Belinda sighed in relief and the trio turned into the room on their left. A supply room. They gathered food, supplies, potions, and gold before moving on.

They made it to a torture chamber where they found Frig and Woden fighting the torturer and his assistant. "You torture people?!" Ralof snapped at Hadvar, outraged. Belinda stepped between the four fighters, chanting an incantation of ice. She blasted the ground around fighters’ feet, freezing their feet to the floor.

"ENOUGH!" she shouted. "I demand a truce between all parties until we escape this place!" The two Nords and the two Cyrodiilics backed down and withdrew their weapons. "Thank you." She melted the ice with a fire spell... "Now, anything in here that's useful?" she questioned. They all pointed to a cage with corpse inside. "Lockpicks?" Ralof handed her some from a nearby counter and Belinda worked the lock. CLOTHES! A few tears, blood, and dirt, but it was better than itchy rags that reeked of piss. Sorry, friend, Belinda thought, taking everything off the body. She ducked behind the nearby counter and counter and said, "Anyone who looks will be castrated."

They were simple blue-green robes with ivory hems, but they were comfortable and came with pants. Finally, she pulled on fur boots. Wow, I found my size, she thought. She rejoined them. "We ready to go or are we gonna bitch at each other some more?" she asked, grabbing the nearby knapsack from the table and an iron sword. Everyone shook their heads. "Let's go," she said. They went through the keep's prison, eventually reaching the tunnels and underground pass. The group of seven reached a cavern where they sat down to rest. The torturer's assistant was pacing nervously while Belinda washed her face in the streaming running through the cavern.

"Calm down," the torturer told his assistant.

"Why have we stopped?" the younger Cyrodiilic asked.

"We need to rest and gather our bearings," the torturer answered.

"Well, I don't want to be killed by a dragon!" the assistant snapped.

"The more you worry about it, the more likely it is to happen," Belinda said coldly. She was filling a flask with water. 

"I'm going ahead!" the assistant shouted, running ahead.

"No, wait, come back," Belinda called mockingly.

They moved on after a while across a drawbridge. The torturer and Woden were crushed in a cave-in before they could cross. They came to a chamber where they found the torturer's assistant dead. Frig started with, "I don't really liiiiii-ahhh!" She screamed as two large spiders jumped and mauled her. Belinda, Hadvar, and Ralof drew their weapons as more spiders dropped down to attack. Belinda threw out her hand, arcane fire shooting from her palm. The spiders that killed Frig burned, screeching. Hadvar and Ralof fought the other two.

"I hate those things," Ralof stated, shuddering. "Too many eyes."

"Smalls spiders are bad enough, but when they get bigger than your hand, that is too big," Belinda huffed. "I fucking hate spiders." They continued through the tunnels to a massive cavern with a bear sleeping. They paused, worried.

"Great, a bear," Hadvar groaned.

"Got a bow and arrows?" Belinda asked. "Actually, never mind." She chanted, summoning a Daedric bow to her hand. She aimed, her left forefinger pointing out and toward the bear's head as she squinted. With her thumb and fore- and middle fingers, she tugged the bowstring back as an arrow materialized on it. As she drew the magical arrow back, she inhaled, held her breath, made sure her aim was spot-on, and fire. The Daedric arrow zipped through the air, whistling as the tip entered the bear's head. It was swift and clean. 

The bear went limp, dead.

They moved on, reaching a crevice in the rocks with light streaming through.

"That looks like the way out!" Ralof cheered.

"I knew we'd make it!" Hadvar agreed. They ran up and outside into Skyrim. Belinda followed out, the warm afternoon sun nearly blinding her. When the spots cleared from her vision, she smiled at the scene before her. A beautiful grassy area with dark grey boulders popping out and a small forest of towering pines made up the landscape before reaching the glistening blue waters of Lake Honrich and the White River. On the other side of the lake was another forest, this one surrounding a snow-coated mountain crowned by ancient ruins. And overhead flew the black dragon. Hadvar and Ralof were crouched by a boulder. Belinda stayed where she was, watching as the black dragon, the one she knew was her adversary, flew over the ruins atop the mountain, and then veered north...


	3. The Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Belinda meets Sieghard and the Companions.

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim  
The 17th of Last Seed, 4E201

Ralof and Hadvar reunited with their families, both of whom helped Belinda out. She got clean clothes, armor, a steel sword, and food. Belinda bathed into the river, using magic to keep her body warm in the cold water. Some bathing sugars and careful shaving with a dagger left her feeling imensely better. She dried off and dressed in black leggings and a black shirt and brown leather armor lined with black fur and adorned with iron studs. The armor fit perfectly when buckled right. She then combed and braided and her hair.  
The sky overhead was beautiful. She could see an endless expanse of stars in the dark blue sky. In the east was the huge, red moon Masser with little white-silver Secunda to the side. Where Belinda lived, she could count the stars. Here, she was lost in them. Then there was the river of violet-red and red-violet with brighter stars. It was so beautiful. She sat in the grass and looked up, enjoying the crisp, cool night.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a deep, familiar voice.

Belinda sat up and turned her head to see Ulfric Stormcloak, riding a bay horse. She smiled. "Quite. Good to see you made it out of Helgan," she responded. "I take it you'll be heading back to Windhelm?" she inquired.

"Yes; do you know who else escaped?"

"Your soldier Ralof and an Imperial Hadvar, natives of Riverwood," Belinda said. "They’re currently with their families. Tomorrow I'm heading to Whiterun to let the Jarl know that the dragon was last spotted flying north from Bleak Falls Barrow."

Ulfric nodded. "Be weary then," he said. "Balgruuf if known for his temper and his Housecarl is fierce and wicked with a blade."  
"If she holds such a position as the Jarl's Housecarl, I expect her to be," Belinda chuckled. She laid back in the grass, still watching the stars. "May you have a safe journey," she said to Ulfric.

"Good luck to you also," Ulfric replied, and the rode off.

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim  
The 18th of Last Seed, 4E201

Belinda awoke in the foredawn, lying on her side in the grass. She was a tad stiff, but the soft ground was a Hell of a lot more comfortable than a wooden wagon. She stretched, arching her back and making an X-shaped much like a cat. She went through her daily wake-up routine before drawing her new boot knife to slice and core a red apple for her breakfast. After tossing the core and seeds to the ground, she rinsed her knife in the river and went through Riverwood. It was quiet and peaceful in the foredawn, a time that Belinda enjoyed even on her homeplane. There was little traffic and little noise, allowing her to go about her tasks quickly if she was awake and wanted to go outside or go somewhere. Night was ideal for her. She worked best in those hours. Maybe it was because she was an insomniac?

Nonetheless, she made it to a spot just as the sun was beginning its ascent where she could see the vast, rolling plains of Whiterun Hold better. They came in shades of yellow, gold, and light brown with the occasional green fields of hardy produce and dashes of blue, red, and violet where wildflowers grew. There were mountains surrounding the golden plains, ripe with white mana. She could feel the power of red, white, green, and blue flowing through her. It invigorated her, making her fingertips tingle in excitement at the prospect of the mana-rich area.

Then there was the capital of the hold: Whiterun itself. It had tall, grey stone walls that were weathered and looked ready to fall. They never did though. The city was built on and around a small mountain, and was surrounded by several farms and ranches. From her perch on a boulder alongside the road, she could see farmers and ranchers rising to tend their fields and animals. One farm was, interestingly enough, empty. Belinda was curious.

She descended down to the farm, Pelagius Farm, where she spotted four people lying low, waiting. They were all Nords except for one. A small Cyrodiilic girl was closest to where Belinda stood, hidden in the shadows. No magical talent. She had a pretty face but was admittedly plain otherwise. Tan skin, light brown eyes, dark brown hair worn in Nordic fashion. She wore scale armor, fur lining it and steel studs and light steel plates adorning it. She carried a rather intricate steel sword on her belt.

There was only one Nord woman in the group. She was tall with fair skin, freckles dusting her cheeks and forehead. Her nose was similar to that of a wolf's. She had moon-silver eyes with small pupils and long, wild, auburn hair. She had painted her lips green with three green streaks across her face akin to that of a monster's claws. She was clearly very proud of her form, as she wore a brown leather tunic-like dress with a plunging V-shape neckline, an open back, and moonstone-adorned iron plates giving it some sort of modesty. There was a darker brown leather belt just about her hips that held iron plate armor and iron chainmail over the sides of her thighs. There was the fur-lined iron plate pauldrons, heavy leather boots, long, olive green, fingerless gloves; studded leather and iron plate bracers, a quiver of steel arrows, a hunting bow, and an intricate steel dagger.  
There were two Nord men. One was much larger in every way. He had long, messy black hair and matching stubble around his mouth and the same striking moon-silver eyes as the redhead beside him. He had messy black warpaint around his eyes. He wore Nord carved steel armor. He wielded an intricate-looking great sword. Despite his rugged and   
dirt-smudged face, he was very attractive. Belinda wondered what the actual Hell was with all the attractive people?!

Finally, there was the last Nord. He wasn't as large as the steel-clad warrior beside him, but he still was quite big. He wore no head cover, so his medium blond hair was visible, two braids framing his face with a matching beard. His eyes were also a moon-silver, a trait Belinda was beginning to notice. Were the three Nords relate? No, their hair colors were too diverse. Granted, one of them may be a recessive trait. This blond Nord wore steel plated armor with a wolf carving on the chest piece. He wore a tunic of black wolf fur underneath and had black steel war axe on his back. Belinda examined the axe and the armor closely. Wolf Armor. The Companions. And that had to mean the axe was Wuuthrad! It certainly looked like the ancient axe she had read about.

They finally found all the pieces and reforged it, Belinda thought. The Nord who was wielding it was definitely someone to keep an eye on. Belinda reached out a little deeper. The Nords were werewolves. That explained the striking silver eyes. Then the ground shook softly. Belinda adjusted her position and saw a giant arrive on the farm. It was probably 15 feet all with tangled brown hair and wielding a large club of bone and wood. It had a level of intelligence in its eyes, enough to survive. He leaned down to grab the produce, and that's the Companions struck, shouting battle cries.

The two large Nord men and the Cyrodiilic woman came with weapons in hand. Belinda finally observed that the young Cyrodiilic also had an iron-bound wooden shield. The redhead hung back, notching an arrow to the string of her bow and aiming. She shot at the giant. The giant immediately turned to the charging Nords and Cyrodiilic. He swung at the larger Nord, sending him flying back and into the cobblestone base of the windmill.

"Farkas!" the Nord with Wuuthrad shouted, pausing to see if his friend was well. That was all the distraction the giant needed.

"Watch out, Harbinger!" the Cyrodiilic exclaimed.

Harbinger?! Belinda thought.

The Nord bearing Wuuthrad leapt aside as the giant's club came swinging down. That was when Belinda came into the fight, chanting an incantation that brought ice to her hands in the form of spears. She launched them, one at a time, at the giant. The giant letting out a rumbling grunt of pain as the spears pierced his shoulders. The Cyrodiilic woman was behind the giant, and jumped up to cut the tendons of his knees. The giant howled in pain, blood spraying from the wound as his left knee gave. The giant was in a kneeling position, which gave the Nord with Wuuthrad the chance to hop onto the giant's back and slam the blade of Wuuthrad into the back of the giant's head. The giant groaned and toppled over, dead.

Belinda sighed in relief and went to the one called Farkas. She rolled him over, hearing him groan. She tapped the land's rich white mana. She chanted a healing spell and healed Farkas's injuries. After finishing, she raised her hand with three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" she asked.

"I ain’t good at counting," Farkas answered, pupils dilated to nearly the edges.

"You may have a concussion," Belinda pointed out. The Nord wielding Wuuthrad came over, the Cyrodiilic and the redhead behind him. Belinda and Wuuthrad's wielder hauled Farkas to his feet. "There a healer in town?" Belinda asked.

"Yeah; I'm Sieghard," answered Wuuthrad's wielder.

"Pleasure to meet you," Belinda said. "I'm Belinda. And I'm assuming this is Farkas?" she questioned.

"Aye," Farkas mumbled, supported by Sieghard and Belinda.

"That's my woman Aela the Huntress and that’s Ria," Sieghard introduced.

Belinda nodded to the women and they made their way up to the city of Whiterun. As they approached the gates, they saw travelling merchants and a Khajiit caravan and there was a large crowd at the gates themselves. They stopped at the edge of the crowd. The traveling merchants were being barred from entering the city and they were angry about it. Belinda heard snippets of what the people were shouting. "Let us in!" "It's safer in the city!" "We'll be killed!"

"Why isn't the Jarl letting people into the city? Whiterun is a trading hub," she asked Sieghard.

"The Jarl..." Sieghard went silent. "That is a fine question."

"Step aside! Companions coming through!" Aela shouted. People moved out of the way as Aela led the group. Ria brought up the rear. They went up to the gates, the guards quickly opening the doors. They moved to Jorvaskr rather quickly, getting Farkas on his bed. Aela shouted for a Dunmer named Athis to fetch a Nord woman named Danica Pure-Spring from the Temple of Kynareth.

"Torvar! Where's Vilkas?!" Sieghard demanded.

"Job!" the scruffy looking Nord answered.

"Good,” Sieghard grunted.

"Tilma!" Ria called, running out of the room.

Farkas groaned. Belinda elevated his feet 12 inches. Farkas gave a groan of relief. "That feels better," he rumbled.

"It should," Belinda said.

"You a healer?" Sieghard asked.

"When I need to be," Belinda answered. "We need to get this armor off." She and Aela carefully removed Farkas's armor. He wore leather trousers and a shirt missing the sleeves.  
An old woman entered. This must be Tilma, Belinda thought. The old woman put a cool, damp cloth on Farkas's forehead. "How was he hurt?" Tilma asked.

"Giant smacked him into a stone wall," Sieghard answered.

"I healed most of the serious injuries, but he's got a concussion and a few fractures," Belinda explained.

Tilma nodded. Once Danica Pure-Spring arrived, she and Tilma shooed everyone from the room. Belinda took this as her cue to leave. That's when Sieghard turned to her and said, "Thank you for helping us with Farkas and against the Giant."

"What was I supposed to do? Stand around like a dolt?" Belinda responded.

Sieghard chuckled.

"Well, I best be off," Belinda said. "I need to speak to the Jarl."

"I'll take you to him," Sieghard offered. "As Harbinger, he'll listen to me. But I must ask: Why do you need to see him?" he questioned.

"I was at Helgan," Belinda replied. "I have info on the dragon."

Sieghard stared at her in shock. "So there really was a dragon?"

"Oh, yeah." They began walking, Sieghard asking about the dragon. How big was it? What did it look like? What happened? How did it destroy Helgan? Were there any survivors? Belinda replied with: About as big as the temple. Black, spiky scales and red eyes. It used a Thu'um that rained fiery boulders upon everything. And yes. They arrived inside Dragonsreach, the ceilings huge! The dragon would fit inside the place! That's when the thought crossed Belinda's mind: If Dragonsreach was meant to hold a dragon, then why the hopping Hell was it made out of damn wood?!

As they approached the Jarl, they heard him in a heated discussion with the steward. Jarl Balgruuf was on his feet, face displaying his anger. He wasn't overly attractive, but he was muscular and imposing, though not so much as Ulfric. He had blond hair and a blond beard (something Belinda wasn't so overly surprised about) and blue eyes (again, go figure). His face had some age, but he was the Jarl of Whiterun Hold. It was the busiest of the holds due to its central position, a merchant hub. Proventus Avenicci was a small, pale, balding Cyrodiilic man. The Jarl's housecarl was Dunmer woman with sharp features and dark grey skin.

"What would you have me do then? Nothing?" Balgruuf demanded.

"My lord, please! This is no time for rash action," Proventus exclaimed. "I just think we need more information before we act. I just-."

"I hate to interrupt, but there's the rather large matter of a dragon destroying Helgen," Belinda pointed out, loud enough to cut everyone off.

They turned to stare at her, wondering who she was, why she was there, and who let her in. The Dunmer woman drew her sword, a fierce look in her crimson, almond-shaped eyes. She approached, but then Sieghard made his presence known.

“At ease, Housecarl Irileth, at ease,” he commanded. “She has important information concerning the dragons. She was at Helgan.”

The jarl, housecarl, and steward paused, their eyes falling on Belinda.

“You were at Helgan? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?” Balgruuf asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“Yes, Jarl,” Belinda answered. “He had come flying into Helgan, landed on the central tower, and Shouted. Then it was literally raining fire. I managed to escape with the aid of others. After we got out, we saw the dragon fly over Bleak Falls Barrow before flying north. When I passed through Riverwood, no one seemed to notice, but I guess they all thought that everyone would think they’re crazy or something. The only person who claimed to have seen it was an elderly woman on the southern edge of town and her son thought she was crazy. The dragon was black as night. And I saw him up close. His eyes were red.” Belinda was keeping the dragon’s identity a secret. For now. Best not to completely incite a full on panic. Everyone would run around like chickens after their heads had been cut off! Actually, I’d pay to see an entire city do that, Belinda thought in amusement.

Balgruuf groaned, sitting back in his throne and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You were right, Irileth,” he grumbled. “Bleak Falls Barrow…Irileth, send a contingment of men out to Riverwood at once.”

“But what if Jarl Siddgeir assumes we’re siding with Ulfric to attack him?” Proventus asked.

Crap, I forget how close Riverwood is to Falkreath Hold, Belinda thought.

“We must-.” Proventus was immediately cut off.

“Enough!” Balgruuf shouted, rising to his feet. “I will not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Especially considering the drought this year!”

Has it really been a dry summer? Belinda wondered. Skyrim summers were usually never dry. The third of the year where the province wasn’t completely blanketed in snow, it rained every couple days. Dragons appearing now would be very problematic indeed…


	4. Dione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda and Sieghard travel to Bleak Falls Barrow, meeting Dione along the way.

Bleak Falls Barrow, Falkreath Hold  
Skyrim  
The 19th of Last Seed, 4E201

"How did I get myself roped into doing this?" Belinda asked with a groan as she and Sieghard arrived at the foot of the mountain upon which Bleak Falls Barrow sat on. "Hell, I don't even know how you got roped into this. Is it because you were just there?!"

Sieghard shrugged. They had spent the remainder of the previous day getting supplies, sharpening weapons, and Belinda bought a fur cloak. Growing up on Earth, Belinda despised the thought of wearing fur, but that was because she lived in a time when factories could make synthetic fur. Of course, real or fake, Belinda always found fur really tacky. Strangely though, in a place like Nirn's beautiful and dangerous Skyrim, it suited. Maybe because very few people hunted for sport? Well, the nobility did and shame on them. As an adult, Belinda believed in using the whole animal if you’re going to kill one. That which couldn't be used could be turned into fertilizer. When dried and cleaned, bone made for excellent jewelry, decorations, weapons, or a replacement for firewood. Not to mention what the marrow could be used for. Belinda had spent the better part of the summer on Middle Earth, in a region called Forochel, learning from the Lossoth tribes who clung to their ancestral traditions and ways of life while the rest of Middle Earth advanced into the 5th Age, the age of technology and cars, though many of the old ways still remained, as well as some Elves and Dwarves and Halflings and Orcs.

Belinda loved when old and ancient traditions survived into modern times. She had a fondness for the retro and the vintage, and learning those old ways not only preserved them, but made her better at surviving. Now, it was no easy task to get a bone to light, but when you did, it burned for quite a long while. Naturally, you had to get as much meat off and empty the marrow, both of which went into food. Belinda's mouth watered at the thought of the hearty soup she had had last month. The portions may have been small, but they were filling. And obviously, she had been drooling at the thought of that mammoth stew, because Sieghard pointed it out.

"I was thinking of this delightful stew I had last month," Belinda said.

"Hmm?" Sieghard's curiosity was piqued.

"It was a mammoth stew, the bone marrow mixed in with chunks of mammoth meat and veggies mixed in," Belinda explained. "It was so yummy."

"Sounds good... Thanks, now I want mammoth stew," the Nord huffed.

Belinda laughed as they started their ascended up the mountain trail. A pack of wolves snarled at the, guarding their den. Sieghard stared the beasts down. Belinda touched them with her magic. They stayed on guard around their den while the two moved on. Soon, the grass faded into the snow and gales brought dusty snow to their face. Belinda wrapped her braid around her neck and drew up her hood. There was a tower in the distance. Their approach was met with a volley of arrows. Drawing their weapons, the pair ducked behind boulders.

"Shit," Belinda hissed. She took out her bow and an arrow, placing it on the bowstring. She peeked around the boulder, muttering a spell of Detect Life. She saw three people. They were staying out of sight. One peeked her head out. Belinda jumped out, drawing her arrow to the corner of her mouth, right forefinger pointing out to help line up the shot. She released the arrow and it zipped through the air at the woman's head. The woman dying sent two large men, an Orc and a Nord, charging forth. The Orc was wearing simple leathers and wielded an Orichalcum warhammer, a greenish alloy that was commonly used by the Orcish people of the plane. The Nord was clad in steel plate armor and had a steel great sword. Belinda withdrew her bow aside and drew her steel sword. Sieghard charge with Wuuthrad in his hands.

Sword in her left hand, Belinda conjured fire to her right hand. She threw out said hand, a cone of fire blasting the Nord. He continued his charge through the flames, raising his sword. He brought it down as she pulled back and raised her long sword in defense. The Nord slammed his sword on hers. Belinda clenched her hand tight so has not to be disarmed. But the force sent pain throughout her arm. She had been taught to fight with a sword, but truthfully, swords themselves were not her primary weapons of choice. She managed to back away, but the Nord was eager to slaughter her. He charged again and she went to her knees and shoved her sword up through the Nord's abdomen. She then rose and slammed into the Nord, knocking him back and off her sword. She charged him this time and thrust her sword into the Nord's neck. He went down.

Meanwhile, Sieghard and the Orc were locked in a fierce battle. The Orc had gone berserk, wailing on Sieghard and leaving him with little to no opportunities to go on the offense. He was relying on the pole of Wuuthrad for defense. He had fought Orcs before, many of them great warriors and/or having gone berserk. So the Nord need not be on the offense. He held defense, and he would continue to do so until the Orc calmed down, wore down, or Belinda finished her own fight to attack the Orc's flank. Whichever came first, he welcome it. As the first dragged on, an ebony arrow slammed into the Orc's neck. In his berserk state, the Orc barely felt it. Belinda was conjuring a spear of ice, and she was using Elven arrows. So it could not have been her. Another ebony arrow zipped into the Orc's back. Belinda had taken notice of the arrows, ice spear in hand. She flung it into the Orc's side. With the Orc finally distracted, Sieghard swung Wuuthrad and cleaved the Orc's head off.

"Sorry to have interfered, but that was taking quite some time," said soft, smooth voice. Belinda and Sieghard turned to a Dunmer woman in tight, black leather armor lined with intricate silver designs, the most notable of which was the symbol of the Nightingales. Her skin was a pale silver, and she had beautiful, lilac, almond-shaped eyes. Her hair was a soft, snowy white, falling to her shoulders in twin French braids. She was beautiful, her features very Dunmer, yet humanlike with her ears more rounded than tapered. She was armed with a beautiful sword with a mithril blade and an intricate black walnut bow with silver carvings. "I am Dione Nightingale."

Belinda and Sieghard introduced themselves.

"Belinda Scale? I thought you looked familiar," Dione said. "You were in Helgan when the Dragon attacked.

"I was," Belinda said. "You must've been out before anyone else."

"I was," Dione responded.

"So, why are you up here?" Sieghard asked.

"After escaping Helgan, I hid out in the wilderness until yesterday evening to make sure the Imperials had cleared out," Dione answered. "So, I started for Solitude to report what happened at Helgan to the Bard's College, since I have yet to make my contribution to the Poetic Edda. Well, I spent the night at the local inn, and this morning I went to buy some supplies from the general store. Some bandits had robbed it last night and escaped into Bleak Falls Barrow."

"That... Is a remarkably stupid place to hide," Belinda said, her voice deadpan.

"Especially because those old ruins are full of Draugr, Spiders, Skeevers, and Trolls," Sieghard agreed.

"Eugh, spiders," Belinda mumbled.

"Not a huge fan?" Dione asked, raising a brow.

"Not. A. Bit," Belinda answered. "Well, as fate would have it, Sieghard and I are also heading into Bleak Falls Barrow. The Jarl's court wizard asked us to recover an artifact that "may or may not be there." In other words-."

"Farengar doesn't really know?" Dione chuckled.

"You know him?" Belinda questioned, it being her turn to raise a brow. In addition to being a bard, Dione was also a thief and a powerful mage. In fact, she was a master of arcana and was possessed of a great power: She could combined spells to create incredible results. There was something else, something only Belinda could see. She was a Planeswalker! 

"Sieghard, do you mind if Dione here and I have a private conversation?" Belinda asked.

“I don’t know if that’s really possible unless I move far away,” Sieghard answered, scratching the back of his head.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot you’re a werewolf,” Belinda muttered.

“How did you even know that?!” Sieghard exclaimed.

“I can just tell these things; it’s a talent of mine,” Belinda answered, and then grinned. “That and you smell like a wet dog.”

Dione snickered. "So, what did you want to know?" she asked.

"It's really not something I wish to discuss in front of Sieghard," Belinda answered. "Especially because it's a very delicate subject and I don't know how he'll respond to the information."

"Just say it," Sieghard huffed.

Belinda rolled her eyes and asked, "How long have you been a Planeswalker, Dione?"

Dione let the term sink it. She looked up at Belinda. "A few months. Are you one too?"

Belinda nodded. "I've been one for nearly 11 years. It must've been rough on you, taking all of this in and keeping it a secret."

"Yeah; it's been hard to find someone to approach the subject with," Dione told her. "I'm glad I have finally found someone."

Belinda smiled. "So, where'd you land?" she asked.

"Someplace called Vryn," Dione answered.

"Vryn? Haven't been there yet," Belinda said.

"Oh, yeah; I landed in this really pretty place by a ring just as pure mana was rushing though," Dione told her. “I almost got blown up. I think. Not quite sure what happens when pure, raw mana hits you.”

“Incineration, perhaps,” Belinda responded.

Sieghard was lost as the two women talked. Finally, he interrupted, "Shouldn't we keep going to Bleak Falls Barrow?"

Belinda and Dione looked to him, then exchanged glances. "Sorry," they apologized.

Now a trio, they continued up the snow-coated trail to the ruins. They were met with more bandits. Six total. Belinda summoned a small fire wyrm that raged against a bandit. Dione conjured an illusion of herself, leaping and rolling away before a Nord could cut her down. Dione summoned Dremora to fight the Nord before finding a safe perch to shoot arrows at the two enemy archers. Sieghard went into battle against an Argonian warrior. Belinda focused on the remaining bandit: An Altmer mage. They had a magical duel, launching spells at one another. It was Belinda's fire versus the Elf's ice.

Dione managed to shoot the first archer. Her mind was keen, fast, her eyes all over the place. The archer fell forward, the arrow protruding from his ankle. With him down, Dione launched another arrow. This one zipped into the Bosmer's head, killing him. An arrow flew at her. She twisted herself out of the way, the iron arrowhead cutting her across her cheekbone. Conjuring a ball of lightning to her left hand, she threw it at the second archer, a Kahjiit. The ball of lightning exploded at his feet, sending him flying into a pillar. Dione cast invisibility and charged, switching out her mother's Nightingale bow for her father's Nightingale saber and a long, ebony dagger. She reappeared beside the Khajiit, spinning swiftly. She cut off his arms, making the Khajiit hiss in agony. Dione stomped the ground with her right foot, bringing her momentum to a halt. She used the force to plunge her dagger into the Khajiit's chest. He fell over.

Her Dremora was relentless and unforgiving to the Nord who had nearly slain Dione. The Nord couldn't attack, let alone block. She went down easily when the Dremora cleaved her head off with his great sword. The fire wyrm was dispatched before too long. It was merely a fast, easy summon to distract the bandit while everyone else fought. And Sieghard was the first to dispatch his opponent. The Argonian was far from a decent swordsman and his iron sword was a flimsy piece of craftsmanship. It broke easily shattered under the full force of Wuuthraad, and then Sieghard brought the ancient axe up to cut up the length of the Argonian's torso. The Argonian fell back, exposing him to a killing blow from Ysgrammor's axe. After that, Sieghard charged to Nord that the small fire wyrm had been distracting, charging across the ruins’ courtyard to attack the Nord from behind.  
Belinda managed to scorch her Altmer opponent. The Altmer summoned a Dremora, earning the attention of Dione's Dremora. This allowed Belinda to dance around and slay the enemy Dreamora with a quick stab to the head, via the dagger Belinda had hidden in her bracer. She then got hit in the back by a fireball spell that the Altmer launched at her. She grunted, turning her head and muttering a powerful lightning spell. She turned, lightning blasting from both hands and striking the Altmer in a brilliant display. Belinda smiled. 

She loved magic so damned much!

Dione sent her Dremora back to Oblivion. "Well, that was exciting," she commented. "Shall we proceed inside to retrieve what we came here for?" she asked a moment later.

"Aye," Sieghard grunted in agreement, heaving Wuuthrad up and onto his shoulder.

"You know, I think we make an excellent team," Belinda told them, giving them a smile.

"You truly think so?" Dione asked.

"I know so," Belinda answered.

They looked to the quiet Sieghard, who came off to Dione as stoic. Finally, the Nord smiled to them and said, "We are a pretty good team."

 

The trio smiled in union and put their hands on top of one another. They were a team, and now they turned their attentions to Bleak Falls Barrow.

\---

Bleak Falls Barrow, Falkreath Barrow  
Skyrim  
The 19th of Last Seed, 4E201

Belinda, Sieghard, and Dione entered Bleak Falls Barrow as quietly as possible. Dione held up her hand and pointed to an orange light in the distance. Belinda and Sieghard ducked down while the Dunmer slipped into the shadows. Belinda cast Detect Life, allowing her to see Dione moving in the darkness. She blended right in. The Dunmer hovered behind an ancient... Pedestal? Or was it a sarcophagus? She peered over the edge and saw a Draugr lying within. She poked it with the end of her bow. Nothing. She turned her attentions to the two Nords sitting by the fire. There was a man and a woman.

"So we're just supposed to sit here while Arvel runs off with that Golden Claw?" the female bandit asked.

"That Dark Elf wants to go on ahead, let him," the male bandit responded, irritated. "Better than us risking our necks." He sat on a bench, elbows on knees.

The female bandit stood, frustrated. "What if Arvel doesn't come back?" she demanded. "I want my share from that claw!"

"Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble," the male snapped.

Dione sent a hand signal to Belinda, knowing the raven-haired woman would see. Belinda nodded and crept over. Dione made a hand signal for bow and arrow, hoping it was clear. Belinda nodded again and drew her own bow and an arrow. The two women notched an arrow to their respective bows and drew back, angling themselves and their arrows at the bandits. The arrows were launched into the air and pierced the bandits. Dione's arrow struck the woman in the head while Belinda's got the man in the heart. Quick, clean kills. Sieghard rejoined them as they looted the massive chamber. A few gold between them, some lockpicks divided between Belinda and Dione, and some junk to sell off later. They descended down ancient stone corridors, some of which were collapsed and every crack and crevice was etched with spider webs. That gave Belinda some pause, seeing as how she despised spiders. They freaked her out.

"You okay?" Sieghard asked.

"Yeah, I just don't like spiders very much," Belinda answered.

"Bad experience?"

"Yeah... Was nearly sacrificed to a spider goddess on a world where the local Dark Elves aren't very nice," Belinda explained.

"Yeah... Just stop right there," Sieghard said.

They arrived in a chamber where a Nord bandit pulled a lever. And then died when hundreds of poison needles impaled him. The man howled in pain, collapsing. He coughed and hacked up blood before finally falling onto his side. Blood pooled around him. The trio watched, paling. Well, that was pleasant! They fully entered the chamber and looked around. Three pillars with ancient carvings of an eagle, a whale, and a snake lined the left wall. There was an upper level of the chamber with two panels depicting a snake and a whale. The third panel had long since fallen and showed a snake.

"Obvious puzzle is obvious," Belinda said. "Seriously, am I the only one who questions the intelligence of the people who build these places?"

"Nope," Dione responded. "I do it all the time." Then they all looked to the dead body and the few bones scattered about. “Granted, some of the people who attempted to open this gate prior is proof that maybe being obvious isn’t such a moronic idea in the first place.”

"True; though it is easier for those who are patient and have more than half a brain," Belinda pointed out. She examined the panels and, from left to right, shifted the pillar to Snake, Snake, Whale. She and Sieghard back up as Dione pulled the lever, then did a backflip in case the combination was wrong. The gate only raised.

"Too easy," the Dunmer said, smirking. They proceeded, Dione killing a few skeevers with a basic fire spell. "Anyone for roasted skeever for dinner?" she joked.

"Bah, not enough meat," Sieghard replied.

"You've actually eaten a skeever?" Dione asked.

"No; field rats," Sieghard answered. "They're meatier."

"Stop making me hungry!" Belinda exclaimed as they came upon a place with a lot of spider webs. This made Belinda a little more nervous.

"Is... Is someone coming?" called a male voice. "Is that you Harknir? Bjorn?! Soling! I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help!"

Belinda drew her sword and hacked away the web that prevented them from proceeding, and saw someone tangled up in a web on the other side of the room. The man screamed in terror when a hugeass spider dropped down. Belinda shrieked in terror. Oh, how she hated spiders! They were the bane of her existence!

The trio drew their weapons, ready for the fight. Belinda decided to hang back with her bow and arrows. This left Dione to cast spells at the spider. Sieghard charged in with Wuuthrad. The spider focused on the large Nord. Dione kept a healing spell in her off hand, dancing around the spider with fireballs in her right hand. She blasted the damned thing as the spider tore at Sieghard, who cut it open with the razor-sharp edge of the ancient battle axe. Belinda muttered a spell, the head of her next arrow encased in flame. She launched it, the arrow piercing several of the spider's eyes. It oozed a greenish-grey substance that sizzled and charred into a foul-smelling charcoal. The spider clawed at the burning wounds, allowing Sieghard to start loping off its legs. Together, the trio slew the spider.

"Good, it's dead! Now let me down!" the man shouted.

"Where's the claw?" Dione asked, walking over.

"Yes, the claw!" the Dunmer, probably Arvel, exclaimed. "I know how it works! The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories! I know how they all fit together! Help me down, and I'll show you! You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden here!" Dione brought fire to her hands and formed a single string of it. She shot the string of fire at the web, cut it cleanly. Arvel dropped down and stood up. He turned, chuckling. "You fools!" He took off running. "Why should I share the power with you or anyone?!" Sieghard almost gave chase, but Dione threw her arm out in front of him, making him stop.

"Let him go," she told him. "The way he's going about it, he won't get very far."

"He's a fool, just like the Nord from earlier," Belinda agreed. “Also, please note he did get caught in that nasty spider’s web.”

At this point, they proceeded with caution, Draugr waking from their ancient slumber. The three killing them easily, and found Arvel dead from a spike wall trap and a Draugr on the other side. Dione threw a fireball at the Draugr; it charged them, only to be reduced to ashes. They looted Arvel's corpse and moved deeper in, killing more Draugr and making Draugr set off traps. That amused Belinda and Dione the most. When it came to the swinging axes, Belinda watched the pattern, and charged through, pulling the chain on the other side so Sieghard and Dione could follow. Then at another point, Belinda shot a blunt arrow at a pool of oil, attracting the attention of the Draugr. Then she shot the pot of burning coals overhead. The pot fell, it practically exploded, flames going up. The Draugr were reduced to dust.

The next area was relatively quiet, save for a few Draugr, but they eventually came to the Hall of Stories. Faded reliefs and carvings of ancient kings, draconic gods, and battles with Elves lined the walls, telling tales. The door on the far end was a puzzle lock that correlated with the golden claw that the trio retrieved from Arvel's corpse. Dione matched the rings with the carvings on the underside of the claw. She inserted the claw and unlocked the door, which slid down to reveal a natural cavern. Bats swarmed past the trio, making them duck. Upon rising, they turned their attention to a man-made platform with a wall and a sarcophagus. Belinda felt and heard the Word of Power before she even saw it. It pulsed as she brushed her fingertips along each draconic letter. Fus - Force. She knew many Shouts already, having had an excellent mentor in the Way of the Voice.

The sound of stone hitting the ground drew Belinda's attention away from the word wall, a Draugr rising from its resting place. It wore ancient, ebony armor and wielded an ebony battle axe. The trio all cursed silently, drawing their weapons. The Draugr then Shouted: "Fus-Ro-DAH!" The Shout sent Dione and Sieghard back. Sieghard stumbled to his knees. Dione was thrown into the wall. As her back hit the wall, her breath went flying from her lungs and the Nightingale bow clattered nearby. Belinda had managed to hold her ground, sword in hand. She glared, locking eyes with the Draugr. It charged her, swinging its axe.

Belinda ducked under the swing and came back up with a clean upwards slice. The Draugr stumbled forward, but used the stumble to turn itself and charged an ice spike. Belinda threw up a ward, the spike shattering against it. The ward dispersed as the Draugr charged again. It was bringing an upwards slash. Belinda jumped back and spun away to her left as the Draugr tried to bring the weapon back down. Belinda was behind the Draugr and plunged her sword through its back. The Draugr spun, jerking Belinda's sword from her hands and brought its axe around. Belinda ducked as the axe cut through the air where her neck had been. And behind her, Sieghard had taken on his wolf form: A large, golden-white beast with yellow-gold eyes. He tackled the Draugr to the ground, jaws snapped around its head and then pounded him with his massive paws. The Draugr was slain, and Sieghard threw back his head with a howl.


	5. Dragonstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda and friends must fight a dragon and everyone learns that she's Dragonborn.

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim  
The 19th of Last Seed, 4E201

Sieghard carried the unconscious Dione on his back, remaining in his beast form. Belinda carried his equipment. They had escaped Bleak Falls Barrow through a secret passage after recovering the Dragonstone that Farengar wanted. They crossed White River, Sieghard managing to keep Dione dry. It was around eight in the evening by the time they reached the outskirts of Riverwood. That was when Sieghard changed back and redressed. He still carried Dione all the way to the inn. They were tired from their battles that day, and eager for a good night's sleep. They climbed the steps to the Sleeping Giant Inn and entered.

It was quiet, dry, and well-lit. An average-sized Nord with dark brown hair manned the counter. He looked to them as they entered. "If you're looking for a bed, then you're outta luck," he reported. "The inn-keeper is out on business and I can't rent rooms out."

"Sorry, but you're gonna have to," Sieghard said. "Our friend here is out cold and needs a place to rest."

"We'll pay extra," Belinda assured.

"Fine, but just this once," the Nord sighed.

Belinda brought him 50 septims and the Nord pointed to the room to their left. Inside, Sieghard placed Dione on the bed. The Dunmer slept peacefully. Sieghard and Belinda each took a chair and fell asleep themselves.

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim  
The 20th of Last Seed, 4E201

Dione had been the first to wake, and so got herself some breakfast and then dropped off the golden claw to Lucan Valerius. When she returned, Belinda and Sieghard were eating breakfast. Dione sat with them, raising a brow. Sieghard had ordered quite a bit for himself. This didn’t surprise either of the women because he was a werewolf and they knew it too.

"I'm surprised you didn't come looking for me," she commented.

"I could sense your presence nearby," Belinda pointed out. "I wasn't too worried. How are you feeling?"

"Like bricks fell on my back," Dione responded. "My back hurts really bad."

"I'll try to heal you before we head to Dragon's Reach," Belinda promised. "I take it you have business elsewhere?"

"Not immediately, no," Dione said. "I think I'll come with you though since I have nothing else better to do."

"Nice to have you on board," Belinda said, smiling. "Though I'm not sure what will happen after we get the Dragonstone to Farengar."

"Something interesting, I just know it." Dione smiled back.

They left the inn and the village, crossing the bridge outside of town. The winding trail back to Whiterun was anything but quiet as they encountered three Altmer, one in the black robes of a Thalmor Justiciar and the other two in Elven armor bearing the crest of the Aldmeri Dominion, and a Nord in rags, hands cuffed behind his back. Dione uttered a spell, a Winged Twilight appearing beside her. She pointed to the Thalmor and spoke a single word: "Attack." The harpie like creature screech, shooting into the air and swooping down on the Thalmor. The Elves engaged the Winged Twilight. Belinda and Sieghard leapt into action, grabbing the bound Nord and getting him away from there. Belinda unbound him and Sieghard gave him a weapon. The Nord fled, making for Windhelm. Meanwhile, the Twilight made short word of the Altmer, leaving them shredded. She then nodded to Dione before faded back to Azura's plane of Oblivion.

"What was that?" Sieghard asked.

"It was a Winged Twilight, a Daedra from Moonshadow, Azura's plane of Oblivion," Dione answered, beginning to walk again. "I learned the spell from a priest of Azura while I was in Morrowind a few years ago."

"Ah, a spell known by few and far between" Belinda commented, following. Sieghard followed her. "You should travel more, learn of new creatures to summon."

"Good point, since I've basically learned most every spell the School of Conjuration can teach," Dione agreed. "It would be nice to learn something new, and send people for a loop."

"It's always funny when a Planesbound sees a foreign creature," Belinda chuckled. "The things that I summon make the people of this plane think they're some sort of new Daedra when really these creatures are natives of another world."

"This is all so confusing," Sieghard groaned.

“It usually is at first,” Belinda pointed out.

The two women giggled together as the trio walked. They returned to the rolling, golden plains surrounding the ancient, beautiful, colorful city. As they reached Honnigbrew Meadery, well, Blackbriar Meadery West, they hopped onto the back of a moving wagon. The wagon had a merchant driving it and was pulled by a Skyrim Draft Horse. Sieghard just rolled his eyes at the women and jogged behind on foot. The wagon turned right, heading for the gates of Whiterun. They entered the city when the wagon stopped at the gate so the guards could check the merchant's papers. The other guard let Belinda, Sieghard, and Dione pass. Dione was with them, so she was okay to pass.

"You two must be important," Dione said. "Last time I was here, they wouldn't let me in without proper paperwork. I had to sneak in through the sewers."

"I'm Harbinger of the Companions," Sieghard pointed out.

"And I'm helping the Jarl of Whiterun," Belinda added.

"Oh, that’s right," Dione said.

They entered Dragonsreach and went straight to the court wizard's chambers. Farengar was there, along with a woman in leather with a hood drawn over her head. They were discussing something, a book that the woman was looking down at.

"You see?" Farenger started. "The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text, perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with other, later texts."

"Good; I'm glad you're making progress," the woman said. Dione swore she heard the voice before. "My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers," the woman continued.

"Oh, have no fear," Farenger chuckled. "The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research."

"Time is running, Farengar; don't forget," the woman pointed out. "This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back."

"Yes, yes; don't worry," Farengar said assuringly. "Although..." He looked thoughtful, standing with one hand on his waist and his curled right forefinger and thumb pinching his squared, stubble-covered, clefted chin. "The chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuble..." He looked lost in thought as the woman looked to the trio standing in the doorway.

"You have visitors," the woman commented.

"Hmm?" Farengar looked to Belinda, Sieghard, and Dione. "Ah, yes! The Jarl's protege and the Harbinger!" he exclaimed. "Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die, it seems!" He walked over, Belinda removing her knapsack and setting it down gently. She pulled the Dragonstone from within the canvas pack. She handed it to Farengar, the wizard nearly falling over because it was so heavy. Sieghard snickered at this while Belinda helped Farenger set the stone on the desk. "So, it seems your information was right," the wizard said to the mysterious woman, "and we have our friends here to thank for it."

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and recovered the Dragonstone?" the woman asked. "I'm impressed, and that's not something that happens often."

"Let's pretend I care," Belinda commented.

The woman raised a brow. "A tad rude, don't you think?" she asked.

"I've seen some shit too," Belinda pointed out. "So I don't care if someone's impressed by me or not."

"Fair enough," the woman said.

"Okay, now let me direct your attention to-," Farengar began, but never finished.

"Farengar!" shouted Irileth, the Dunmer Housecarl. She entered the room. "Farengar, you need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby!" She turned to Belinda and Sieghard. "You two should come as well."

"A dragon?!" Farengar exclaimed, excitedly. "What was it doing?!"

"I'd take this a little more seriously," Irileth groaned. "If a dragon were to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can defend the city..." She led the group up to the second floor, a guard following. Jarl Balgruuf was looking over a map spread across a pine table. Little flags marked the locations of Imperial and Stormcloak fortresses. He straightened up and looked to the group.

"So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower?" Balgruuf asked. "You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes, m'lord," the guard answered, coming forward. "It was just circling overhead when I left. I thought it would come after me for sure. I never run so fast in my life."

"You should never run from creatures such as dragons," Belinda commented.

Everyone looked to her.

"I my experiance, running or pausing in fear from Dragons, Spirits, and Minotaurs attracts their attention," Belinda pointed out.

"You've encountered dragons before Helgan?" Balgruuf asked confused.

"Once, and that was under... Unusual circumstances I think should remain undicussed," Belinda answered. "Either way, we should get to the watchtower so we can deal with this dragon."

Balgruuf nodded, and turned to the guard. "Go to the barracks and get some rest," he ordered, "you've earned it."

"Thank you, m'lord," the guard sighed, and took his leave.

"Irileth, gather your men and go to the watchtower," Balgruuf ordered. "I want to see what we're up against."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate," Irileth told him.

"There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friends," Balgruuf said to Sieghard and Belinda. Dione was hanging back, watching from the shadows. "I need you to go with Irileth. You survived Helgan. And you've encountered a dragon even before that," he said to Belinda herself. "You have more experiance in this than anyone else here."

"Of course," Belinda assured.

"I would be honored," Sieghard stated.

"I want to come to!" Farengar called.

"No," Balgruuf responded. "I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways of stopping these dragons."

Yeah, because that so does not have any bad implications, Belinda thought.

\---

The Western Watchtower, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim  
The 20th of Last Seed, 4E201

Belinda, two Dunmer, a Nord werewolf, and four mindless Nord men all hid behind a boulder, looking at the chaotic, burning mess the dragon had left in its wake. The dragon was nowhere to be seen. Chunks had been blown off the tower and its stone wall, wooden beams, railing, and dead shrubs on fire with dark grey smoke wafting from the piles. The massive banner bearing the sigil of Whiterun was burning up slow, fire eating away at the fabric.

"No sign of any dragon, but it sure looks like he's been here," Irileth commented. She turned to the group. "Look, I know it looks bad, but we have to figure out what happened here and if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere." She drew her long sword, everyone following the motion. Belinda had her own bow ready and Dione had a frost spell in one hand, lightning in the other. "Spread out and look for survivors!" Irileth ordered. Everyone split into pairs, Dione going with Irileth, the guards sticking together, and Belinda going with Sieghard. They went straight to the ramp going up to the tower, and a Nord guardsmen wearing a horned helmet came out.

"No, stay away!" he exclaimed. "He's still lurking around! Hroki and Tor got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

"Whoa, slow down," Belinda said, perfectly calm.

They heard a distant roar.

"Kynareth save us!" the guard cried. "Here he comes again!" From behind the mountains appeared a silver-brown dragon with silver wings.

"Okay, that is not even the dragon that attacked Helgan!" Belinda exclaimed.

"Everyone take cover! Make every arrow count!" Irileth shouted, the dragon flying overhead with a roar.

Dione charged the lightning and ice, combining them and flinging the spells at the dragon. The icy lightning struck the dragon's side, making it bellow in rage. He swooped down at the two Dark Elves. They both leapt out of the way, rolling to the side and back to their feet. The dragon tore the ground with his massive claws before taking to the sky again. It turned sharply, eyes alight with fury.

"Yol... TOR-SHUL!" the dragon Shouted, sending a blast of fire down on the group. Dione quickly threw up a ward while Irileth braced herself, taking the blast. Her hair ended up a bit singed. Meanwhile, Belinda and the archers launched arrows at the hovering dragon. The dragon took off again, this time reaching for the Nord archer who had gotten atop the watchtower. The dragon swooped down upon him and took him in his claws, and then tossed him to the ground. The Nord screamed as he plummeted to his death. He hit the ground with a loud thud. Belinda flinched, wincing. At least the poor soul had a swift end. She drew another arrow, imbuing it with shimmering ice and lightning magic. She aimed and fired at the dragon's underbelly as it flew over her. The dragon roared in pain, and crashed into the ground. Debris was sent flying as it slid into the wall.

The dragon got up dizzily, the Nords charging with axes and swords, but were sent flying back by the dragon's massive tail. Sieghard grunted on landing. The dragon then turned to Dione and Irileth, growling. It Shouted again, "Fus... Ro-DAH!" The Thu'um sent the Dunmer flying back.

"Hey!" Belinda shouted, switching to her sword. "Why don't you pick on your own kind?!" Her amethyst eyes lit up.

The dragon turned to her, snarling. "What did you say?!" he snarled.

Belinda took a battle stance. "You heard me," she replied. "So bring it on, tough guy."

The dragon snapped at her, and Belinda danced out of the way before cutting at the dragon's face. The dragon jerked his head to the side with growl. Belinda dove under the dragon's right wing, and started cutting at the leathery membrane. Blood dripped onto her, and the dragon raised his damaged to wing, trying to bite down on her. Belinda spun around, only for the dragon to snatch up her sword and shatter it with his teeth. The raven-haired woman was defenseless! The dragon's head lunged at her again and Belinda leapt out of the way. She finally used a Shout of her own: "Feim-Zii-Gron!" Her body became ethereal as the dragon kept trying to get her. She was immune to his attacks, thankfully. Belinda was able to get into the tower, the dragon following.

Once inside, the dragon tried to squeeze his head in. He was unable to do so and started using the fire breath Shout. Belinda was already ascending the stairs, her ethereal form protecting her. She managed to grab a steel long sword. Touching the leather-wrapped hilt forced her back into her physical form. She then climbed to the tower's roof and looked over the side. There was no way in Hell she could land on that dragon's back without severely injuring herself. Naturally, that's what Shouts were for. "Feim!" she Shouted quietly; the sword became ethereal also. She jumped down onto the dragon's back and ran up to his head. She materialized and grabbed the dragon's horn when he started shaking his head to throw her off.

"Whoa, shit!" Belinda exclaimed. The dragon moved away from the tower, thrashing his head wildly. The Nords and Dunmer were quicky to charge in, weapons ready. The dragon tried to get them off, but their weapons were already breaking scales and cutting flesh. Belinda managed twirl the sword in her grip and plunged it into the dragon's head. The dragon threw back his head, bellowing in agony.

"Niid Dovahkiin!" he cried, and fell back onto his side.

Everyone cleared the way as he fell. Belinda held onto the hilt of her sword, gasping. Of course, the sword was stuck. She got down.

"Everyone get back!" Irileth exclaimed.

Belinda turned back to the dragon, but it burst into light and flame, and its spirit went into her.

"You're... Dragonborn!" a Nord gasped.

\---

High Hrothgar, the Throat of the World  
Skyrim  
The 20th of Last Seed, 4E201

Arngeir looked up from his meditation. He and the other Greybeards were kneeling in a circle in the main hall, so he saw the other three men who knew and spoke for looked up with intrigue.

"She has returned," Einarth whispered in the language of the Dov, the ground trembling as he did.

"And the dragons are returning," Wulfgar added, his voice also in the dragon language and causing the earth to shake.

"Shall we summon her?" Borri questioned in Draconic, the mountain giving another shudder.

"We shall," Arngeir answered.

The four old men looked up, and combined their Voices in a single Shout: "DOV! AH! KIIN!"


	6. Here, There, Everywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda decides to ignore the Greybeards out of spite and shows Dione the joys of Planeswalking.

Pivlichino’s, the Ninth District  
Ravnica  
The 23rd of Last Seed, 4E201

Though it was the 23rd in on Nirn, well, Belinda never really bothered with Ravnica’s calendar, just that she was probably in her 30’s, 40’s, or even her 50’s here. It was a hassle. At least Nirn didn’t send her through these kinds of annoying loops! Nirn’s and Earth’s calendars were evenly lined up. On the lovely afternoon in the Ninth District on the city-world of Ravnica, Belinda sat with Dione in a popular establishment: Pivlichino’s. They were helping themselves to a delicious meal of…Okay, Belinda really didn’t want to know and she was going to assume Dione didn’t either! The menu read beef stew and Belinda was going to believe it! Seriously, with the Golgari Swarm being in charge of food and bio-recycling and the Simic Combine always making some new, bizarre animal, how can you even know what you are eating on Ravnica?

“I must say, this is a fun and interesting plane you’ve brought me to,” Dione commented, taking a spoonful of the stew. She made a face of confusion.

“Well, Ravnica is indeed a fun and interesting place,” Belinda agreed, eating her stew. “We should have dinner in Middle Earth. I know a place that cooks a great mammoth steak with spread made from mammoth butter, finely ground pine nuts, and bone marrow.”

“That sounds absolutely savory,” Dione said, “but how long do you plan on ignoring the Greybeards for?” She took a bite of meat. Now her face really read confusion.

“Bah, they’re little more than old hermits who are uptight and need to get laid,” Belinda responded bitterly.

“That’s…A unique comment,” Dione muttered. “This beef stew is wonderful, but the texture is way off and it has a flavor I don’t usually associate with beef.”

“Dione, don’t question it,” Belinda told her. “Seriously, for the sake of your sanity, don’t.”

Dione looked down at her bowl, staring at it for a few minutes before she shrugged and resumed eating it. “So, what’s with the bitterness toward the Greybeards?” she asked.  
“They wanted to keep me all locked up in High Hrothgar with a gag in my mouth,” Belinda answered. “The old fools are afraid of me. Except Master Borri. The only reason he doesn’t speak is because he does not hold mastery over the Voice and just uttering a single letter will make the ground quake.”

Dione’s eyes popped wide at that. “How do they even communicate?!” she exclaimed.

“Well, at least one of them has enough mastery to speak without causing an earthquake,” Belinda explained. “Arngeir, the absolute most uptight of them all. The Azorius Senate   
simply stand in awe of how uptight he is.”

Dione laughed at that. “That’s a good one!” she laughed.

“You don’t hear many good jokes, do you?” Belinda asked.

“When you’re in charge of the Thieves Guild and the College of Winterhold, you don’t get many opportunities to enjoy a few drinks with the boys,” Dione answered, sighing. “This past week has kind of been like a much needed vacation for me. Honestly, most of my time is spent pouring over this piece of paper or that piece of paper and taking the carriage between the two places. And I just realized how empty and sad my life is. I’m…”

“Ms. Clipboard,” Belinda offered.

“By Azura’s knickers, yes!” Dione exclaimed.

Belinda snickered at that.

A large, tall man in guildless clothes walked over. He had dark brown hair and dark brown-grey eyes. At his waist was a mini apron. “Can I get anything else for you ladies?” he asked. Dione’s eyes went wide at this man.

“Onmund?” she gasped.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Onmund asked.

“She saw your nametag!” Belinda answered hurriedly. “And no, we’re good.”

Onmund nodded and left them.

“Shit, I should have warned you,” Belinda muttered.

“That was Onmund!” Dione exclaimed.

“Not the same Onmund you know,” Belinda pointed out. She sighed. “We all have a soul, as I’m sure you know.”

“Of course, I’m a master enchanter,” Dione said.

“But the soul is an interesting thing,” Belinda explained. “It is massive, too big for one mortal vessel of flesh and blood to contain. So, the soul splits into several pieces and scattered across the Multiverse. The people you know and see, they exist on other worlds. They’re the same person, yet they live different lives, have different friends, different families, and even different beliefs. It’s rare if you a double who has the exact same life, but something is always different.” She took a sip of her drink. “We Planeswalkers are different. Our souls are whole. No one knows why though. I’ve spoken to few Planeswalkers and those who worship Planeswalkers. Some say it’s the Spark in each of us. It would be nice to have such an assurance in life.”

“I suppose it would,” Dione agreed. “So, are you going to go to High Hrothgar or not?”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “Let’s give them a few more weeks to run around in circles. There’s quite a bit more to show and I promised you an excellent mammoth steak for dinner.”  
She was about to take another bite when they heard an explosion.

“Um, what was that?” Dione asked.

“Some Izzet experiment gone arry,” Belinda answered. They went to the balcony’s railing and looked, seeing mages tearing up a street. “Or them doing some inane work. The Izzet   
League only recently started pulling itself back together. Many of the guilds have had some problems and a few disbanded after an incident a while back. But now everyone seems to be on the comeback and it’s making locals nervous.”

“So, what exactly does the Izzet League do?” Dione questioned, watching the mages work.

“They’re in charge of technological development,” Belinda answered. “Mad scientists, weather mages, engineers, and the like.”

Dione smiled at that. “That actually sounds like a guild I’d be interested in,” she said.

“And you’d fit right in,” Belinda agreed. “Seriously, with your talents, you’d be accepted.” They returned to their seats. “I’ve never met anyone who can combine arcane spells the way you can.”

“I can’t explain it,” Dione admitted. “I just can.” She sipped her drink before continuing. “I’ll be chanting a spell for fire and start thinking of lightning, and then both appear in the same hand at the same time. Fire and lightning together are my favorite combination.”

Belinda grinned. “I thought so. It’s certainly a colorful and brilliant display.”

\---

Suri-Kyla, Forochel  
Middle-Earth  
The 23rd of Last Seed, 4E201

“HOLY BALLS!” Belinda exclaimed, planeswalking into the ice-cold waters of the frozen region of Forochel. She jumped out, kicking off her boots and socks and drawing on the mountains for heat and conjuring a little flame to dry off that which was wet and starting to freeze. Dione appeared close by, falling face first into the snow. They had a rough landing, something that wasn’t uncommon for even experienced Planeswalkers. It was still embarrassing and a nuisance.

“Does that always happen?” Dione asked, standing and brushing the dusty snow off her.

Belinda started pulling her socks back on. “Yes; even experienced ‘walkers like myself have these issues,” she answered. She started pulling on the boots and got up as well. She gave a small shiver. She’d almost forgotten how cold Forochel tended to be.

Dione shivered also. “This place is colder than Winterhold,” she said.

“Thank Talos I brought coats,” Belinda muttered, slipping her pack off her shoulders and setting it down to reach inside. She pulled out two long fur coats and passed one to Dione. The young Dunmer put the coat on, followed by Belinda. “So, let me get our bearings real quick.” She looked around. The sky was a bright array of oranges, pinks, and violets. Sunset, and close to suppertime. They stood on ice, close to a path made of stone and snow close by. To the west, there were fires, braziers constantly alight to provide warmth. Mammoths were nearby, tended to by large, hardy men, the Lossoth.

Of all of Middle Earth’s many cultures, the Lossoth were one of the few that had remained mostly the same after the passing of centuries and millennia, as the 3rd age came to an end and the 4th passed them by. So much had changed, yet they still stood strong against the currents of time. And with it, the food! The more Belinda thought about it, the more that giant, juicy mammoth steak coated in a sauce of its own bone marrow and crushed pine nuts made her mouth water. She tried not to drool; she didn’t need the saliva freezing over her skin.

“Belinda? Bells? Hey!” Dione called.

“Ack! What?!” Belinda exclaimed with a jump, looking wildly at the Dunmer.

“You were staring at nothing,” Dione pointed out.

“Right. Sorry,” Belinda apologized. “I was thinking about that steak we’ll be having for dinner.” She sighed. “Isn’t being a Planeswalker proving to be awesome? You get to experience all these different cultures, some of which aren’t so different or even that far off from yours.”

“I will admit, it is an adventure,” Dione agreed. “So, to civilization?”

“Of course!” Belinda laughed, taking point and leading the way to Suri-Kyla, the capital of Forochel. The guards greeted them with simple nods, giving Belinda great respect. Dione was just present. The houses were made of bones, mammoth tusks, leather, and fur. The city wasn’t bustling with life and activity, but children skated on frozen ponds while teens worked under adults. It was mostly women, teens, and children. Most of the men were out hunting, leaving the guards and the chief.

“Not that many people around,” Dione commented, taking it all in.

“It’s still summer,” Belinda pointed out. “Most of the hunters, men, women, and teenage apprentices, are out hunting for game across the region. Best to get it done now rather than later. The winters here are dangerous. There are books that describe horrible, ancient, malevolent ice spirits that haunt the frozen wastes.” They were walking toward a hut that smelt of meat and herbs. Dione inhaled through her nose.

“Oh, that smells good,” she commented. “Can definitely smell the meat. But…Is that really mammoth? It’s smells a little different.”

“The mammoths’ diet here is vastly different from those of Skyrim,” Belinda pointed out. She approached the woman, grabbing a metal plate. Dione did the same.

“Belinda, is that you?” the Lossoth woman asked.

“Yes; I’m here to show my friend around,” Belinda answered. “This is Dione. She wanted to try the mammoth steak I had been raving about since I returned from here.”

“Ah, of course,” the old woman said with a smile. She unwrapped two thick steaks; and they were thick. She took out a serrated knife and cut the meat off the bones. She passed the bones to a teen girl learning to cook, who then plucked the remaining bits of meat off to be tossed into a large kettle of water over hot, bright-orange coals. The cook skewered the steaks with three thin, red-hot rods and placed them over an open fire. The pokers sizzles and scorched the meat and held it together. The smell of cooking meat hit Belinda’s and Dione’s noses, making their mouths water. The old woman grabbed some roasted pine nuts and crushed them in a mortar and pestle. She mixed the power with bone marrow and mixed it with some mammoth butter. She brushed some of the paste on the steaks before flipping them a few minutes later. The fire flared up, giving a burst of much-appreciated heat. The fire itself smelt good. As Belinda had told Dione, the firewood was actually dried out bones, sprinkled with bone marrow for smell.

“This is amazing,” the young Dunmer commented.

“Isn’t it?” Belinda asked, giggling. They soon received their food, which had a drizzle of the nut and marrow butter. They sat at a round table surrounding a fire. It kept them warm while they ate. The steaks were well done, but oh so juicy and the paste gave a savory flavor. It was all so amazing to the women.

“This is so good,” Dione said.

“It gets even better,” Belinda pointed out. “Look up.”

Dione did so, and her lilac eyes lit up. “By Nocturnal…”

Overhead was an array of vibrant greens against the dark blue sky while a ring of lavender surrounded the horizon. Streams of orange and pink joined the green aurora. It was so   
breath-taking.

“Just like back home on a good day,” Dione sighed.

“It’s what I love about northern regions,” Belinda pointed out. “I always get to see breath-taking wonders like this.”

Dione smiled.

“It’s one of the reasons I love Skyrim,” Belinda added.

\---

High Hrothgar, the Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 30th of Last Seed, 4E201

When the pair returned to Nirn a week later, they arrived in the village of Ivarrstead in the foredawn before the mill even opened. They were at the foot of the Throat of the World. Belinda looked up at the mountain, sighing. There was just no ignoring them any longer. She stretched, loosening her muscles and popping her bones and yawned, almost catlike.  
“Okay, time to climb the 7,000 steps,” she groaned. “7,000 steps and a sodding mountain. Who the Hell thought that putting a monastery three-fourths of the way up the tallest mountain in the world was a great idea? Remind me to torture the damn bastard in Hell!”

Dione snickered, following her friend as they began their ascent. They donned their masks and cloaks after the first set of slippery stones steps. The snow would sometimes reach their knees and they had to fight wolves, bears, and, at one point, a frost troll. The massive, icy-white, ape-like beast came charging at them. Dione drew her bow and an arrow. Belinda uttered words, charging a fireball in each hand. The two launched their projectiles. The troll stumbled back with a groaned. Belinda came in with her sword ablaze. She cut at the troll until it fell into the snow with a dying groan. The two women then collected the fat before burning the remains. It gave off a putrid smell that made them both gag and move on happily. The snow became lighter and fluffier, the steps less slippery. They arrived at their destination well after sunset. They were shivering as they entered the surprisingly warm, ancient stone monastery. Arngeir came to greet them.

“Welcome back, Dragonborn,” he said. “We were expecting you a few days earlier.”

“I’d say I’m right on time,” Belinda responded coldly. “Now, if you don’t mind, my friend and I are tired and want to get some food and sleep.”

She led the way to a room, Dione following. Tomorrow was bound to be a long day…


	7. A Blade in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda and Dione are rejoined by Sieghard, Belinda thinks about the birthday she misses back home, explains Planeswalking to Sieghard, and Nathiel is revealed.

High Hrothgar, the Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 1st of Heartfire, 4E201

Dione remembered there was a lot of noise that weekend. And bickering. And shouting. Not entirely Thu’um shouting, mostly Belinda calling Arngeir out of some sort of bullshit and being all uptight. Dione would just be sit on a large, plump cushion, drinking tea, and trying to relax in the quiet of the monastery, and then the Dragonborn would begin arguing with the Voice of the Greybeards. They seemed to do that a lot. On the first day of Heartfire, Dione sat on the stone railing that ran along the back “porch” of the ancient stone structure, watching everyone practice Whirlwind Sprint. Belinda already knew the Shout, all three Words of Power. She was at the edge of the cliff just as the gate would open at the Thu’um of Master Borri. Dione found this very fascinating, but could tell Belinda was irritated. During lunch, she planted herself beside Dione.

“See what I mean?” Belinda asked.

“Yes; I can certainly hear it,” Dione answered. “You should be honored that they’re teaching you though.”

“Honored? Yeah, sure,” Belinda huffed. “I was more honored when I first Planeswalked here and spoke with the Grandmaster of the Greybeards. These old men pale in comparison to him. They are but a blink of the Grandmaster’s eye.”

“I thought Arngeir was the Grandmaster,” Dione pointed out.

“Hardly. He just speaks for everyone,” Belinda explained. “Paarthurnax is the true Grandmaster. He lives on the summit. Someday, I’ll have to introduce you two. He’s fascinated by mages and loves to talk, albeit he does tend to slip in and out of Draconic.”

“The way you describe him, he sounds like a dragon,” Dione commented.

Belinda started laughing.

“What?” Dione asked.

“Nothing, nothing at all!” Belinda laughed.

“You are a strange person,” the Dunmer declared.

“Yep.”

\---

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 3rd of Heartfire, 4E201

He had been following them since Whiterun.

Belinda and Dione had hopped on board the wagon of one of the Khajiit caravans en route to Whiterun from Falkreath. The two women chatted with Ri’saad, Atahbah, Khayla, and Ma’randru-jo, exchanging tales of adventures, keeping tales of other planes to themselves. The Khajiit were welcoming and told of their fallen friend Bhisha, slain by wretched fiends. After a brief description, Dione told them that the miserable wretches were called Falmer, once the ancient, proud, beautiful race of Snow Elves. They had endured a terrible fate at the hands of the now extinct, and happily so as Dione put it, Dwemer, the Dwarves. They arrived in Whiterun after another day of travel, passing through Riverwood at noon. The Khajiit set up their tents at First Gate. Dione and Belinda ascended the hill and entered the city. Night was fast approaching, so they were eager to reach the Bannered Mare. That’s when he first saw her.

That irritating bard Mikael was on his lute, hovering close to Carlotta Valentia, who was too busy fussing over her daughter Mila to acknowledge his presence. That or she was blatantly ignoring him. Belinda and Dione agreed on the latter. Olfina was bringing ale to the men, thinking she was being clever when she gave Jon Battle-Born a small wink. Hulda was keeping the bar clean, despite the couple of wasted travelers ready to fall from their barstools. Sinmar and Uthgerd the Unbroken were seated side-by-side at the fire pit in the center of the common room, bitter, talking about the shameful guardsmen, and drinking their mead. Saadia was in the kitchen cooking. Ysolda was also helping out here and there by taking orders from travelers and local patrons. Belinda and Dione took a seat by the door and the tall, lanky Ysolda came to take their orders.

“What can I get you two?” she asked.

“I’ll have venison dumplings in broth with two slices of buttered dark rye and a mug of Black-Briar Reserve,” Belinda answered.

“I’ll have the same,” Dione added.

Ysolda nodded and went to the bar to fetch the mead. She dropped the drinks off on her way to the kitchen. Belinda sipped the mead.

“Well, this is better than her usual swill,” she commented.

“Yeah, it is,” Dione agreed, and giggled. “It’s actually drinkable. I give Honningbrew, ere I mean, Black-Briar West, some credit. The regular brew doesn’t taste like piss.”

“You never did tell me how Honningbrew went out of business,” Belinda pointed out.

“Okay, Maven Black-Briar was constantly trying to get the former owner Sabjorn to enter a partnership with her,” Dione began. “The Imperial-bought bitch is trying to dominate the mead trade in Skyrim. Sabjorn’s meadery is in the center of Skyrim, making it an excellent spot to dominate the trade. With Honningbrew under her belt, most other meaderies will either crumble or join Black-Briar Meadery. Well, Maven sent me in to help Mallus Macius, the owner of Black-Briar West. Well, he had borrowed money from Sabjorn and was unable to pay it back, so he wanted to help Maven get her way. I arrived in Whiterun via carriage, met up with Mallus, and he gave me the details.

“The meadery had a rat problem. I was supposed to happen by and lend Sabjorn a helping hand. Got the greedy bastard to pay me upfront for the ‘favor’, and in retrospect, I’m glad I did screw the cheapskate out of a few hundred septims. I was to go into the caverns under the meadery, killing every rat I found along the way and put rat poison in their nest. Turns out there was a lunatic breeding the rats and altering them with poisonous saliva. On my way out of the meadery, I was to drop the remaining rat poison into the vat containing the new Honningbrew Reserve. Commander of the Guard Caius was coming in for a tasting of the new mead. He got a drink of the batch with the rat poison in it. He arrested Sabjorn on the spot for attempted murder of an Imperial Official and the Captain of the Whiterun Guard. I later found out Sabjorn will be serving a sentence of 20 years to life. Which is kind of interesting as far as jail sentences go. But Caius was pissed. Well, now Mallus is in charge of the new Black-Briar Meadery West, has hired a new assistant, and   
Maven has gotten what she wants in the end.”

“I can’t believe you poisoned the man,” Belinda whispered.

“I can’t believe Caius is still alive and strutting around like he owns the place weeks later,” Dione snickered. “But yeah, he was pissed.”

“Hey, you’d be pissed to if you got some serious indigestion from drinking mead full of rat poison,” Belinda chuckled.

By this point, Ysolda had brought the two their supper. The food was good. Belinda was quite found of dark rye with a little bit of butter and dipped in broth. And the dumplings were hearty and meaty, the venison ground up and mixed with a little bit of garlic and shredded carrots. And they were nice and warm!

“This is so good,” Belinda commented. “It put me in the mood for some damn good cheese though.”

“You and your food,” Dione sighed.

“Hey, when you’re in a cold place like Skyrim, you get hungry,” Belinda laughed. “Something about the frigid air and rough terrain.”

\---

Morthal, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 6th of Heartfire, 4E201

After that, they rented a room and went to sleep. The next morning, they went to Jorrvaskr to recruit Sieghard. The large, Nord werewolf agreed to accompany them. From the shadows, a fourth person followed them. It followed across the plains and through the exterior ruins of Labyrinthian. They set up camp in an ancient chamber, a snowstorm blowing in. It was heavy and wet. They stayed close to their fire, the shadowy one hovering close by. Sieghard knew it was there, but chose to stay silent. For all he knew, this stranger probably intended merely to go to Hjaalmarch as they were. Of course, it didn’t help that this one smelt of blood and death…

They made it to Morthal the following night. When they awoke, with the 6th. Belinda rolled on her back, lying on the straw bed. She looked up at the ceiling, feeling solemn and homesick. Today was her birthday. Of all things. She was stuck in a backwoods swamp in the most far-flung end of Skyrim, in Hjaalmarch Hold, a place that essentially had nothing there! The fact she would have to spend her birthday in some dirty inn in an overly superstitious town of redneck Nords in a damned swamp surrounded by the chilling influx of black mana…

She sighed. She had to get up. Just because it was her birthday didn’t mean she had to laze around when there was work to be done. She got up, pulled on her jeans, socks, and boots before exiting the room. Sieghard was already awake and eating a large breakfast of sausages, eggs, and buttered toast. He took one look at Belinda as she sat on the bench beside him and could tell something troubled her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I should be home today,” Belinda answered. “It’s my name day. I was born 17 years ago today.”

Sieghard looked at her in shock. He thought Belinda was older than that. He thought she was a full adult! “You’re still a whelp?” he asked. “I thought you were an adult.”

Belinda smirked. “Almost. Another year. Still at the age of consent by Skyrim’s standards.”

Sieghard coughed. “I thought you were an adult because you drink.”

“The legal age of drinking is 10 here,” Belinda pointed out. “Born 17 years ago and became a Planeswalker 10 years ago. Life sure flies by.”

“You still haven’t explained what a Planeswalker is to me,” Sieghard pointed out.

“You’re not one, so you really shouldn’t worry about it,” Belinda explained. “For those who are Planesbound like you, the concept is very difficult to grasp and understand unless you’ve known about this since childhood. I don’t mean to come off as condescending, but it’s the cruel reality of the situation. Being a Planeswalker is both a blessing and a curse.”

“So’s being a werewolf,” Sieghard stated. “You’re stronger and faster, immune to illness, you can speak to wolves, and you live longer. But sometimes, you’re at the whims of the moons or Hircine, people will hate you if they learn the truth, you go through clothes and armor, and there’s always a nagging hunger in you.”

“I agree, but being a Planeswalker is different in its own right,” Belinda pointed out. “For us, we live longer, have stronger magic, and are capable of great feats. We can stay and fight or flee with our tails between our legs. We live on our own whims, we get to see amazing places the likes of which the Planesbound will never see, and illness seldom affects us even. But for us, we bear a burden far more painful than any. The knowledge of how small we really are, how we should have obligations, and the fact that so many can never know the truth or they fall to madness. The fact I can never be truly honest to my family…”

Sieghard’s throat tightened, and he saw a pain in Belinda’s eyes. Was that what being a Planeswalker meant? Being separated from the ones you love because of something that could destroy them? Destroy the bonds of trust? Destroy one’s mind? And of course, there was the fact that she was spending her birthday away from home, more or less against her will.

“You should head home to your family,” he told her. “It’s you name day after all.”

“I have a double who’s covering for me,” Belinda assured him. “I made her myself. She looks like me, except for the hair and eye color.”

“Why is her hair and eye color different?” Sieghard asked.

“Because I like standing out,” Belinda answered. “I’m a shapeshifter and shifted my eyes and hair to match what I like. That and it makes an excellent disguise. Thankfully, maintaining the changes doesn’t require more magic, otherwise I wouldn’t bother. It’s only when I change something.”

“So, you’re a changeling,” Sieghard mumbled.

“Changelings and shapeshifters are two different things,” Belinda pointed out in mock offended. She gave a humph and looked away.

The werewolf laughed heartily. “You’re a piece of work,” he chuckled.

“I know,” Belinda said.

\---

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 7th of Heartfire, 4E201

They arrived Ustengrav the following night after day of stumbling through the cold, fog-shrouded salt water swamp. They were cold and wet when they fought the sorceress and her undead bandits at the exterior ruins. Belinda unleashed the first strike: A Shout of fire breath. And undead caught easily, the bodies already beginning to decay. Sieghard leapt in with his axe and cleaved through them. Dione hung back. They tossed the bodies aside and took the exterior campsite, hovering close to the fire shivering. Hjaalmarch was a cold, wet, unforgiving place.

“I hate this place, I hate it so much,” Belinda muttered, rubbing her upper arms to cause friction to generate warmth.

They entered the tomb first thing the following morning. There were necromancers lazing about while they commanded their undead minions to break ancient stone with rusty old pickaxes. There were two necromancers, a male and a female. The male was a Dunmer and the female was an Altmer. They were talking about their undead minions, and how one just suddenly collapsed. The Altmer groaned in disgust and revived the recently fallen Nord bandit. She directed him back to his work like he was a child.

“I swear, they get stupider every time,” she exclaimed. “If that’s even possible. They were dumb to begin with!” She started ranting and raving, the Dark Elven necromancer rolling his vibrant red eyes in annoyance. Dione took out her bow and notched an arrow to the string. Belinda followed suit. They aimed at the two necromancers, Dione taking the Altmer due to her constantly moving around. They released, landing killing shots. Dione was able to calculate where the Altmer would be and when. The arrow went through the Altmer’s neck while Belinda’s arrow went between the Dunmer’s eyes. The Altmer and her zombies dropped to the floor while the Dunmer went limp in his chair. They looted the room and the bodies, taking books, coins, alchemical ingredients, and gems. They moved on through a corridor, Sieghard at a pace behind them as Dione and Belinda snuck through. Belinda held up her hand to halt her companions. The necromancers were battling the local Draugr. They waited to see how the battle went, and it was going poorly for the necromancers. One died, and another brought him or her back to life to fight again. The lesser lich killed a Draugr and brought it back to serve them. The tables were turned, and the Draugr were getting beat.

Of course, a Draugr deathlord appeared and cut through the opposition. Sieghard stood up straight and went in, Wuuthrad in his hands. He cut at the Draugr, which naturally fought back with a Shout and an ebony axe. Sieghard was able to hold his ground against the Unrelenting Force Shout this time. Belinda brought fire to her hands and moved around in the shadows cast by torchlight. She blasted the Draugr from behind, helping the Nord defeat the Draugr.

The trio proceeded deeper into Ustengrav’s depths, arriving soon upon a chamber with a swallowed-up woodland and lake, mixed in among a ruined city, veins of alloy here and there. Natural light shone in through a massive crack in the cavern’s ceiling, aiding in the vegetation’s growth. A few small animals made themselves at home here aside from the occasional skeever, and rats hung in the trees, waiting for light fireflies to flutter out and shimmer. It was beautiful, breath-taking.

“Whoa,” Belinda gasped. “This is incredible.”

“Yes, and it seems our shadowy follower is ready to strike,” Sieghard said softly to the pair.

“Say what?” Belinda asked.

“Someone’s been following us since Whiterun; so far he’s remained dormant, but I think he’s ready to go,” Sieghard answered in a whisper.  
Belinda and Dione grabbed the hilts of their weapons. Belinda’s pupils became thin slits as she uttered a spell to help her see in the shadows. She turned, her amethyst irises glowing around thin black slits. She spotted the enemy, watching her from around a corner. He looked around the corner, locking eyes with her. He cursed silently and stood abruptly, drawing a sword. He fled down the corridor, opposite the trio. Belinda gave chase.

“Belinda!” Dione exclaimed.

The shadow cut through any Draugr that got in his way, Belinda burning the others with arcane fire. They reached a bridge where Belinda caught up to him and jumped him. They fought; Belinda knocked the shadowy figure off the bridge to what must have been the mess hall. Belinda jumped down, the man rolling away before she could crush him. He was back on his feet, two unique looking daggers in his hands. In his right was a straight dagger that was razor-sharp with a lighter grey edge around a darker center. The pummel was a little black sphere. The other dagger was made of ebony, but more curved than the standard dagger. Belinda knew what these daggers were. Mehrunes’ Razor and the Blade of Woe. They were famous in Tamriel, the weapons favored greatly by assassins. But the Razor was broken and scattered 50 years after the Oblivion Crisis. Now it was whole once more.

“Where’d you get those?” Belinda asked, drawing her sword. She uttered a spell of fire. One she could use continuously until she spoke a word of cancellation. She channeled it into   
her right hand.

“A few people who shan’t be missed,” the assassin answered, taking a battle stance.

Belinda did the same. “So, care to tell me who you are?”

“No one of consequence.”

“'Princess Bride' reference? I like it,” Belinda chuckled. “That at least tells me you’ve been to my homeplane.”

“You should remember who I am,” the assassin pointed out. “I shoved you off a particularly steep hill when you were a child. You should’ve died. If I had known you were a Planeswalker…”

“You,” Belinda gasped. “Who are you and who are you working for?” she demanded.

“I am Nathiel, servant to Skorn,” the assassin answered.

“You work for that demon?!” Belinda snapped. Her childhood mentor had told her about Skorn, a powerful demon who tortured him relentlessly in his youth.

The ground shook violently, making the two stumbled. They heard Dione shriek in the distance as a cave-in blocked their route. A chunk of the ceiling fell from overhead, collapsing the bridge. Belinda dodged and rolled until she was on her feet. She saw the assassin cast a spell of arcane invisibility over himself. Belinda cursed, and whispered a Shout that would help her see her enemy. He was making his escape again, moving deeper into the ruins. Belinda gave chased, eyes wild with rage. Skorn had hurt her mentor. Best send him his servant’s head…


	8. Chapter 8: Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda is badly injured by Nathiel.

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 7th of Heartfire, 4E201

The ground shook violently, stone and rubble falling. The trees in Ustengrav’s ruined city toppled over while cracks opened up overhead. Salty swamp water poured in, contaminating the pure spring water. The ceiling nearly fell on Dione and Sieghard, forcing them back from chasing after their friend Belinda, whom was deeper within the ruins of Ustengrav. Dione conjured a magical shield, combining ice and a ward spell, that saved her and the Nord from being crushed by a stone. The shield shuttered from the impact and dissolved. Dione stumbled and fell back. Sieghard caught his dazed friend and scooped her into his arms.

“We can’t go in further, we need to pull back,” he said.

Dione nodded wearily. That spell had taken a lot when the stone hit it. She remembered Sieghard carrying her and using the shield spell a lot. She didn’t remember blacking out, just waking up to the cool, damp air of Hjaalmarch Hold. She groaned wearily, lying on a wooden board, a fur blanket over her. Sieghard knelt beside her, but he wasn’t alone. A Breton woman was with him, dressed in the robes of a priestess with an amulet of Dibella about her neck.

“When did I black out?” Dione asked.

“About an hour ago,” Sieghard answered.

Dione pointed to the priestess.

“Was lost in the swamp and stumbled upon us as we emerged from the ruins,” Sieghard explained.

“Okay…” Dione got up.

“Easy, you may not be quite whole,” the priestess said.

“I’ve been shot in the neck, blown up, turned into every animal in Skyrim, and stabbed in the gut, I can manage a migraine and dizziness,” Dione pointed out with a grunt. The ground was cracked, exposing the ruins beneath the ground and the entrance was practically destroyed. “Shit…That was some earthquake. Do you think Belinda is alive?” she asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sieghard answered. He went to the entrance and started clearing the rubble away. Dione sighed and went to the help. The priestess shed her outer robe, joining their efforts.

\---

Belinda opened her eyes. Her shield spell had worked miraculously. She lowered the shield, the rocks stuck in place and reached out for Dione. She felt the Dunmer yards away and above ground, safe from the earthquake. Belinda cursed. Without Dione close, she could not mimic the Dunmer’s abilities. Plus, she was weakened from using the spell. What had caused the earthquake? Something deeper in, perhaps. She got to her feet and looked around. No way but forward through the ruins. She limped deeper into to the underground forest, feeling pain in her left ankle. Draugr came out. She drew her sword and fought back. One came up from behind, only to be shot through the neck with an arrow. She looked up toward Nathiel.

“Relax, I’m not going to kill you,” he told her.

“You were going to earlier,” Belinda pointed out.

“That was before we got trapped and the only way forward requires your Voice to proceed,” Nathiel stated. “I cannot Shout.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Belinda groaned. She sat on a stone, weary and her leg still injured. Nathiel dropped down from his perch and walked over to her. He grabbed her injured leg and removed her boot and sock. “The fuck are you doing?!” she demanded.

“You’re injured; I’m helping,” Nathiel responded. He grabbed Belinda and laid her down, elevating her injured leg on his knee. He pulled a small jar from his pouch and applied a soothing salve that smelt of lavender to the swollen area. It made Belinda relax her body. She had sprained her ankle, and the only reason she was tense now was because her enemy was treating her injury. She knew him as nothing else. What man served a demon like Skorn and couldn’t be her enemy? She sighed in exhaustion. “Don’t trust me, do you?” Nathiel asked.

“Are you surprised?” Belinda responded. “Not really, no. Your master hurt someone very dear to me.” She thought back to the day she saw her mentor’s scars…

\---

10 years ago…

Belinda was going to be a black kitty for Halloween! She had the ears, tail, and everything! She was really excited to describe it to Karr! She ran out back and to the tree covering her plastic playhouse. Built atop the tree was a small treehouse of sorts. It was her mentor’s loft. He resided there instead of in the house. It made sense to Belinda. Karr was like a bird. He needed high up places. She entered through the hatch and saw him sitting shirtless on an ottoman, legs folded and large, soft, white wings relaxed behind him. His eyes were closed. Without his shirt on, Belinda saw the pale, jagged scars criss-crossing his body.

“Karr, are you awake?” the child asked. She went over, and listened. His breathing was soft and his skin was paler. He was asleep. She looked at the scars. Who had done this to him? And why? Nothing kind, undoubtedly. Belinda knew Karr had fought in thousands of wars in his life of 2,500 years. She reached out and brushed her fingers along a feathery-shaped scar along the length of the half-Angel’s left arm. She backed away when color spread across Karr’s body. His breath increased and his wings lifted. He opened his eyes, revealing pale, blurry, lilac irises to the child. Belinda blinked her then-brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologized.

“No, it is alright,” Karr assured. “I had been meditating and must have dozed off.” He then focused his blind gaze on the child before him. Though he was blind, he could still see magic. A colorful array of magical aura took the form of a child, and he could, in a sense, see her. “Now, what brought you to me?” he asked.

“I wanted to describe my Halloween costume to you,” Belinda answered. Karr was blind. She asked him how he became blind. Instead, the half-Angel shuddered and told her it was a story for when she was older and flew into his loft. And no one needed to tell her that he was going to drink the memories away. Karr was a functioning alcoholic, though he never became aggressive or violent. He just stumbled around, doing tasks and occasionally flying into a window like a dim-witted pigeon. Belinda had to admit though, that part always made her laugh the most. What Angel flew into windows like pigeons? None that were sober and/or dignified.

“Where did you get this one?” Belinda asked, referring to the one on his arm.

“The Demon Skorn,” Karr answered. “He cut me with his tail-blade and injected poison into the wound. The pain lasted weeks. Surprised I didn’t lose my arm. Surprised my Spark didn’t ignite sooner…”

As Belinda looked at it, she could just picture the pale tissue as a bouquet of colorful flowers. “You should get it painted!”

“Pardon?” Karr asked.

“You should get the scar painted! Um…Tattooed! Tattoo a pretty picture over it! Make it bring happy memories instead of sad ones!” Belinda answered. “It would be pretty as a bunch of different and colorful feathers! It kinda looks like a giant feather.”

Karr felt the scar. It did feel feathery in places as a result of the poison. Perhaps Belinda was right. In 2,000 years, he hadn’t thought of that. In fact, he had never considered a tattoo. Back when he was a child, tattoos were excruciatingly painful to get, and how one got one…Karr felt his wings tense. But now the procedure of getting a tattoo was easier, looked more bearable. He nodded at the thought.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” he decided.

“YAY!” Belinda cheered.

\---

Belinda looked at Nathiel then, and it hit her. “Wait, you’re a Planeswalker,” she pointed out. “How the Hell are you stuck here? I have a legitimate reason to be here. You’re essentially here to kill me.”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Nathiel chuckled.

Burning pain shot through Belinda’s leg, making her scream in agony. The lavender had been a clever cover for the demonic scorpion’s poison. It burned her skin, seeping into her pores. It entered her bloodstream and begun to immobilize her. She fell to the ground, screaming. The poison was not intended to kill, but merely cause terrible pain. Nathiel drew his knife, grinning.

“Skorn will be pleased when I bring him the heart of Karr Ivorring’s protégée,” he chuckled.

Belinda needed to Planeswalk. Had to. But the poison was sapping the power she would need. Instead, she needed to fall back on her backup plan. She quickly reached madly, pulling mana. She needed a spell. A damn good one too. Or a creature. Any would do as long as it could fit in the cavern. She couldn’t reach any white mana. The plains of Whiterun were too far. So, that was a disadvantage. She had plenty of green mana from the underground forest and plenty of black from the swamp above. Yes, that would have to do. She reached across the eternities, and found something to suit. A baloth from Zendikar, only undead. Belinda was no necromancer, but she didn’t have many other options. Plus, it would fit. She called it, pulled the null across the eternities. It appeared above her, groaning. It smelt foul and the Dragonborn wanted to vomit.

I hate using dead things, she thought irritably. It made her feel dirty.

“So, you still have some fire in you,” Nathiel said. “I was hoping for a good fight.” He charged and the baloth null charged. It was still fast enough so as to distract Nathiel. Belinda called on more green and red mana to give herself a boost of strength and some pain resistance. She got up and ran across a crumbling bridge. Nathiel soon had the baloth null dispatched and turned to see Belinda making her escape. He chased after her. He had to stop her. Had to bring her down. She reached the stones that activated as she ran past. 

They raised the gates ahead.

“WULD-NAH-KEST!” she screamed, and the winds carried her ahead, past the final gate as it fell. She fell face-first to the ground, sweat-soaked and panting for breath. Her body screamed in fiery agony. She rolled onto her back, screaming and crying. She looked back long enough to see Nathiel glaring angrily.

“Next time, you won’t survive,” he promised, and then Planeswalked away.

Belinda felt pain and exhaustion consuming her. It was overwhelming. She blacked out…

\---

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 8th of Heartfire, 4E201

Belinda opened her eyes well into the afternoon of the following day. The pain in her body had dulled a bit, but everything hurt. She managed to pull herself up to look at her leg. There was a hideous wound like a third degree burn on her ankle. Her stomach turned painfully, her body convulsing. She got onto her hands and knees and vomited. She shuddered helplessly and flopped onto her side. She shook and whimpered and blacked out again.

\---

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 9th of Heartfire, 4E201

Belinda awoke before noon, a fever wracking her body. She could barely move. She had to. Had to try. She felt like death. She was hungry, but at the same time, the thought of food made her sick and she threw up again. She started dragging herself forward. She made it a few feet before she had to give up and rest again. That night, she was able to stand back up and limped forward. She entered a chamber covered in creepy webs and was home to frostbite spiders. They and their queen turned to Belinda. She willed her strength and Shouted, “Feim!” She felt some of her strength return to her and the pain numbed completely. She ran past the firetraps and spiders to the gate that took her to Jurgen’s tomb. She took one step forward on the stairs down and fell, just in time to essentially return to normal and crack her skull on the stone floor. She blacked out again.

\---

Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim. Nirn  
The 10th of Heartfire, 4E201

Belinda was dehydrated, starving, and was suffering from blood loss, a fever, and a serious burn. When she awoke, she the pain had numbed completely, and that’s what worried her. She knew she would die soon. She hadn’t even the magic to summon something to aid her. But she had to move. She got up, and limped across the room. She felt to her hands and knees. Something cut into her right. She pulled a sharp piece of rusted iron from her hand with a cry, and fell to her side. The pain was back. Her knees were scrapped even. She ripped cloth from her shirt and tied it around her injured hand. She pushed herself forward again, and the ground shook. Statues rose from the pools of water in greeting. Finally, Belinda reached the coffin of Jurgen Windcaller. But instead of the horn, there was a note instead.

“All this pain, for fucking nothing…” She collapsed, leaning against the coffin. She was too tired, weak, and injured to keep going. As her vision began to fade again, she saw something approach her. It was blurry and black as shadow, but its eyes…A piercing blue.

The world went dark once more…

\---

Ustengrav Exterior, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 11th of Heartfire, 4E201

“…like any poison I’ve ever seen,” said a voice.

“At least she’s safe,” replied another voice. That sounded like Sieghard. “She’s waking.”

Belinda opened her eyes. “Oh gods above, how long does this Hell last?” she asked with a pitiful groan.

A stranger knelt beside her. “Try to relax,” she said. She was a Breton, Belinda knew that much. “I know you’re in unimaginable pain, but you need to relax until Lucien returns.”  
“Who are you and who’s Lucien?” Belinda asked.

“I’m Calista,” the Breton answered, “and Lucien is the one who pulled you from the ruins. He’s looking into obtaining the antidote for the poison in your body. I’m unable to heal you until the poison is gone.” Her voice was soft and caring.

“Oh perfect,” Belinda groaned. Her wounds had been cleaned and covered at least, but she was still in agony. She needed a distraction. “Someone talk to me, please.”  
“What do we say?” Dione asked, kneeling beside her.

“The color of your mother’s knickers; I don’t care what,” Belinda answered. “Just distract me because you have no idea how much this hurts.”

“Shall I remind you I’ve been blown up, stabbed multiple times-.”

“Try having a demonic poison coursing through your veins, making you feel like you’re slowly burning to a death that just won’t fucking come. That poison is also causing a fever, sapping your magic, which is whole other pain in and of itself because that is basically attacking your very spirit; and having several injuries. Did you know Planeswalkers were immortal once? It took a lot of really bad shit to kill a Planeswalker once upon a time. Our bodies were what we wanted them to be. Any injuries we would get, we would just shrug off with a laugh! We are not immortal anymore though and that actually really fucking sucks!”

“I…Didn’t know that,” Dione responded.

“I didn’t until my mentor gave me some history on Planeswalkers,” Belinda groaned. She was silent for a moment. “Now I’ve only scratched the surface of the pain he went through…He was poisoned with this demon’s poison once before when he was younger. Well, more like multiple times. The scar on his arm was terrible. Even after his Spark ignited, he never got rid of his scars. He welcomed injuries, and instead of making himself look perfect as he could have back when Planeswalkers were immortal, he kept his scars.” The talking was helping her to ignore the pain.

“Why aren’t we immortal anymore?” Dione asked.

“Something happened close to the heart of the Multiverse,” Belinda answered. “Rifts started opening up. The old ‘walkers were warned that their activities would cause this to happen. There were those who wanted the rifts to remain open so they could maintain their immortality and power. But wiser ‘walkers worked to close them. They succeeded, but at a cost. We’re no longer immortal. We die easier. Unless we’re natural shapeshifters, we can’t change ourselves, and even then we can’t become other species. It’s either human or animal, and even there, there’s rules. You can’t turn into a unicorn or a dragon. None magical creatures, yes. Magical ones, no. It’s annoying. We’re also at mere fraction of what we could be. When my mentor was young, he could move the very mountains and destroy a whole world. Now, he can’t.”

“Wait, Planeswalkers could do that?” Dione exclaimed. She thought about the impossibility of being able to do that. Being able to destroy an entire world on a whim. It sounded so ridiculous!

“It was possible once. Not anymore,” Belinda pointed out. “It sounded crazy to me also, even when I was smaller. Worlds are big, and the life that dwells on them makes it so. Now imagine that there’s no life. And not just no life. But no planet. No moon, no stars. Nothing. An entire planes of existence, gone. And with it, all its natural laws, magic, spirits, everything. It’s nothing until it rebuilds, which can take millions of years to accomplish.”

“That’s horrifying,” Dione muttered.

“And the other fragments of a person’s soul feels pain they can’t explain,” Belinda added. “Imagine the Onmund we saw on Ravnica was stabbed in the heart. The Onmund here would have a pain in his heart he would not be able to understand. He wouldn’t know that his life on another plane was suddenly cut short. And even if he was told, he wouldn’t understand it. The Planesbound can never understand.” Belinda fell silent, eyes sad. The reality was horrifying.  
Dione realized that more than ever. She looked to Calista and Sieghard. Calista was too busy to pay attention. But Sieghard undoubtedly heard every word. Does he feel smaller for hearing that? The Dark Elf wondered. She was feeling pretty small herself.

“Is that what being a Planeswalker means?” she asked. “Because I don’t want it.”

“I don’t either, but we can’t change what we are,” Belinda answered. “The only thing we can do is embrace it. Welcome to being a Planeswalker: It sucks. Get used to it. That’s what my second mentor used to tell me.” She smirked. “He was an ass. I wonder whatever happened to the old sod. He’s a new ‘walker…” And Belinda was getting really sick of passing out…

\---

Morthal, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 12th of Heartfire, 4E201

When Belinda awoke the next morning, the pain was finally gone. She was still combating a fever, but her injuries had been healed. She opened her eyes, ceiling a wood ceiling instead of the cloudy sky. She wondered where she was and how long she had been asleep for. What she did know was that she was quite hungry and needed food. Sieghard walked in, presumably to check on her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Better,” Belinda answered. “Where are we?”

“Moorside Inn, Morthal.” Sieghard sat in the chair beside Belinda’s bed. “It started raining not long after you fell asleep. We had to carry you back to Morthal quickly. Thankfully, Lucien was already here when we arrived and we were able to give you the antidote.”

Belinda nodded. “I would like to meet this Lucien,” she told him. “Is he still here?”

“I will get him for you when he wakes,” Sieghard promised. “For now, I suppose you need food. I can hear your stomach. What do you want?” he asked.

“At this point, I’ll eat anything,” Belinda answered. “Hell, I’ll eat two large pizzas, I’m that hungry.”

“Pizzas?” Sieghard asked, never having heard the term before.

“Remind me to invent them on this plane,” Belinda grumbled. “What does the inn serve?”

“Not much; some bread, but mostly stews, mudcrab legs, and fish,” Sieghard answered.

“So, nothing sweet?” Belinda asked, and sighed in disappointment when Sieghard shook his head no. “I’ll have beef stew and a few slices of bread with some butter,” she decided.

Sieghard nodded and started for the door. “Belinda…”

“Yeah?”

“Where are your parents?” he asked.

“At home with a copy of me so I can go adventuring,” Belinda answered.

Sieghard turned to her. “Home meaning?”

“Home meaning they’re on the same plane. I never said the same house. I have a rocky family. Parents split up and I live with my mom for the most part, my dad’s living away from us, my sister is insufferable, and there’s too much of the wrong noise there. I like this place better.”

“I see…” Sieghard left the room, and Belinda to her thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9: Lucien

Morthal, Hjaalmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 12th of Heartfire, 4E201

Lucien was not quite what Belinda was expecting. He was a black lynx with piercing blue eyes and an interestingly long, swishing tail. He wore a platinum amulet in the shape of a dragon with amethyst eyes on a woven cord of purple, silvery-grey, and black satin. His eyes shone of wisdom and knowing with millennia behind them. He sat on the bed at Belinda’s feet, staring at her. Belinda stared back. Belinda admitted though, there was something strangely familiar about the lynx. Something that she couldn’t place. It was like she was supposed to know him.

“Have we met?” Belinda asked.

“In a sense,” Lucien answered. “We met in your past life. Spirits are such complicated things you know.”

Belinda nodded, understanding that much.

“You’re the reincarnation of Amanisa Dragon-Speaker, an ancient and powerful Elven Planeswalker,” Lucien explained. “I can see why she chose you. Human and of the Dragon blood. She was always fond of both. Had a habit of studying dragons and their kin back home.” He looked at her, seeming to smile, but it was a sad one. “You don’t remember. It was too much to hope that there would be something of your old life in there. Of course, Karr did not remember who he was before, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”  
Belinda reached out and petted his head. She moved her fingers behind his ears and scratched, making the lynx purr in delight. He came and cuddled against her, giving her warmth and enjoying the attention. Ancient though he was, he was a cat at heart. Belinda loved cats.

“You must miss her,” Belinda sighed. “I know how that can be…I miss Karr all the time, even though he left when I was still so young and had much more to learn.”  
Lucien nodded. “What became of him?” he questioned.

“He had to guide a spirit back home and I haven’t seen him since,” Belinda answered. “I hope to see him again someday.” She looked at Lucien. “So, you’re obvious here for more than just reminiscing. Amanisa was an Astralamancer like I am, and you and her were bonded. So you must know enough of her secrets to help get better at the Astralamancy thing.”

Lucien smiled again. “I do. She taught me all I know of it to teach her next life. Soon, you won’t need physical contact to tap another mage’s power. Just being near them will be enough. As you get stronger, you’ll be able to reach greater distances until you’re able to just reach into the land itself and find the magical imprint of another mage.”

“That sounds totally awesome,” Belinda commented.

\---

Labyrinthian, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 14th of Heartfire, 4E201

Belinda was on the other side of the Mask Chamber in the exterior ruins of Labyrinthian, trying to reach out into Dione’s soul. The Dunmer sat, not resisting and being patient as Belinda honed her power. She brushed against Dione’s skin. Belinda pushed again and managed to brush her soul. When she did, she gasped and collapsed to her knees. She needed a break. She had been at this all morning.

They had arrived once more at the exterior ruins of Labyrinthian last night, Belinda still fighting a fever. Calista travelled with them, intending to make it to Whiterun. When they awoke this morning, a blizzard came in and they were stuck there until the blizzard blew over. In the odd chamber was a skeleton, an iron dagger in its ribcage, a wooden mask in its hand, and notes left by a mercenary describing what happened here. Dione burned the skeleton and bagged the dagger. Sell it for some pocket money. Belinda, however, was more interested in the mask and the notes. She tried it on and found herself in another time, back when the busts were whole. She understood what needed to be done: Find the   
masks that matched each bust. Made sense. She removed the wooden mask and returned to her time.

Since they were currently snowed in, Lucien decided that it would be an excellent time for Belinda to start working on her talents. Getting a little bit further from Dione was hard, but she expected it to be. She didn’t think it would be this hard though. Lucien watched her patiently. Belinda had asked if she could sit down, but the lynx had told her it was important that she remain standing, that way the physical strain would remind her to stay grounded and she would not lose herself to the spirit world. Of course it was something. It was always something.

“How did I ever?” Belinda asked him.

“You had more time and power before,” Lucien answered. “Now, you do not. If the others had listened to you before, you would have all the time and power you need. Now, you have to work on it.”

“It just occurred to me…How are you even a Planeswalker?” Belinda asked. “Clearly you weren’t always fully sentient and beasts do not typically have the Spark. Not to mention the fact that you are still alive. Half the surviving Old ‘Walkers have died.”

“Like others, I am an exception,” Lucien answered. “I was born with sentience. When you rescued me as a cub, you expanded my knowledge. When I tasted the blood of Kanesa, your daughter, it ignited my Spark and I was on a much younger Ravnica. I was scared and quickly returned to you. She knew what I was and told me not to be scared. After your friend Narmeleth passed, I decided to reside in Valinor for a time and enjoy the peace. When you finally came to me at the end of the Third Age, I could tell you were different, that after keeping your own Spark from igniting, you finally let it take you away. Then we travelled together.”

The others had been listening. Calista felt a slight bit overwhelmed, Sieghard absorbed the information, and Dione learned.

“How…Did I die before?” Belinda asked.

“It was Nathiel’s fault,” Lucien answered. “Or maybe it was Karr’s. Or yours.”

“So you knew Nathiel?”

“Once, when he was young and I younger.”

“What happened?”

“Nathiel was a powerful and talented alchemist once upon a time,” Lucien explained. “He came to Amanisa’s academy in his youth to study. He wanted to create a true Philosopher’s Stone without the mass murder. Naturally, Amanisa tried to steer him away from such a course. She was the wisest of us Old ‘Walkers after all. She knew what objects of such power were capable of. She had seen it happen many times. However, Nathiel pursued his course and found a way. While it would not kill humanoids, it would kill many beasts, magical animals, and nature on a vast scale. Amanisa learned of this and sent Karr to prevent its creation and to destroy Nathiel’s notes. Needless to say, he succeeded. Nathiel was left devastated and his Spark ignited. We don’t know what became of him. For a few hundred years, we heard nothing from him and assumed he had been destroyed in the Blind Eternities.

“We were wrong.”

“Why? What happened?” Dione asked.

“A thousand years ago, Nathiel returned a changed man,” Lucien answered. “He promised to make Amanisa pay for destroying his work and became a Dark Mage, one who steals magic for personal gain. He taught others and they turned on Amanisa. Karr and I were ready to defend, but Amanisa would not let us suffer fates worse than death. She destroyed her library. That which she deemed too valuable to destroy were sent by her messengers across the multiverse. She had prepared for Nathiel’s return apparently and had a tomb waiting for her body in Valinor. She transferred her soul and Spark to a star that travelled the Multiverse and Karr and I escaped with her body. Of course, we made sure Nathiel saw her body before we ‘walked away to safety. Better for him to believe she was dead and not able to be reborn.”

“I don’t blame my past life for destroying Nathiel’s work,” Belinda pointed out. “It would always be mass murder to create such an item.”

Lucien nodded.

\---

Nathiel’s Lair, USA  
Earth  
The 14th of Heartfire 4E201/September 14th, 2008

Nathiel smashed a beaker against a wall and sat in a chair. It just wasn’t possible! Amanisa Dragon-Speaker was dead! He saw her in Karr’s arms a thousand years ago! Yet that was her face! HOW?! She was alive! All these thoughts assaulted him at once, distracting him from the sinister red glow. It only drew his attention when a growl came from the glow.

“My lord!” Nathiel exclaimed, standing, and then kneeling. “My apologies. I was distracted by her…”

“Her? Amanisa?” a voice snarled.

“She’s alive,” Nathiel pointed out. “I can’t understand it. I saw her die.” He went to his work table and slammed his hands down on the surface. “I saw her corpse in that filthy   
Angel’s arms!”

“The Ivory-Wing…” the voice growled.

“The one who destroyed my research,” Nathiel groaned. “What is he plotting..?” He had spent years trying to find the Half-Angel Karrin Ivory-Wing, know more commonly as Karr Ivorring. Yet, the Half-Angel eluded him. But now here was Amanisa, back from the grave. How was she alive? What did Karr do to make her so? “I must find her again.”

“Find her, destroy her,” the voice urged, “and make sure she perishes for good, this time.”

“Yes, Lord Skorn.”

\---

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 16th of Heartfire, 4E201

The group arrived in the village of Riverwood a couple days later, minus Calista who remained in Whiterun. The day was bright and sunny, the tempters mild. Lucien stretched and yawned. It had been an exhausting couple of days. Between travelling through the mountains, battling snow trolls, and training Belinda, he was eager to sleep on a decent bed. Belinda looked to him and chuckling lightly.

“Sleepy kitty?” she chimed.

“Shaddup,” Lucien responded lightly.

Belinda smiled to him. She really enjoyed his company. He was light-hearted and patient, which made him a tolerable mentor. As they crossed the bridge, she noticed he was hobbling a bit. Something appeared to be wrong with his left hind leg. Had he been injured? She knew that last troll out of the mountains had been a brute, but she didn’t recall seeing it hit Lucien once. It hadn’t even known the lynx was there until Lucien bit into its shoulder.

“Lucien, are you okay?” Belinda asked. “You’re limping.”

“So I am,” Lucien answered. “I’m not as young or as powerful as I once was. Old scars sometimes bother me. A wretched Morroval cut me good here.”

“What the Hell is a Morroval?” Sieghard asked.

“A vampire,” Lucien answered. “These ones are a bit different in appearance to the vampires one would find here on Nirn. Vampire was the Human named, a more modernized edition to what they were once called. Morroval is not as commonly used anymore.”

“I can tell you why: Vampire is easier,” Sieghard pointed out.

“Indeed. Because the plural of Morroval is spelt different,” Lucien chuckled.

“The just grates my nerves,” Sieghard groaned. “Why must some plural words be spelt differently from the singular word?”

“Don’t ask me; I didn’t invent the common tongue,” Lucien stated. “Seriously, Mouse and Mice. WHY?!”

Belinda and Dione laughed. “To annoy all of existence!” Belinda laughed. People started staring. What a bunch of weirdos, right? The group entered The Sleeping Giant Inn. The local “bard” Sven was there, playing his lute. And badly, one might add. The town drunk was at his favorite table. Orgnar was at the bar, wiping it down. A tall, blond Breton woman was sweeping the floor, minding her own business.

“That’s the innkeeper, Delphine,” Sieghard pointed out to Belinda. “She was with Farengar when we deliver the Dragonstone. The one you mouthed off to.”

“Then she knows who left the note,” Belinda plainly said. She had read while in the Mask Chamber back at Labyrinthian:

Dragonborn –

I need to speak to you. Urgently.  
Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn  
in Riverwood and I’ll meet you.

\--A friend

It was brief and said everything it needed to. Belinda looked up. There was no attic, and she was going to feel stupid for even asking after it. Especially if Delphine wasn’t the person who left that note. Belinda had a strong feeling it was her, especially after Sieghard reminded her that Delphine had been there when they handed Farengar the Dragonstone. With a sigh, the Dragonborn walked up to Delphine and said, “I’d like to rent the attic room.”

Delphine looked at her, eyes scrutinizing. It was the same kid who had retrieved the Dragonstone.

“And before you say anything, yes I’m well aware that there’s no attic,” Belinda pointed out. “So let’s just cut the crap and you take me to either your lair or whoever the Hell you’re working for and get on with it.”

“Rude as ever, I see,” Delphine said coolly.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a long, painful, and lousy week,” Belinda told her. “So, shall we?”

‘Will you handle this with a bit more tact?” Delphine asked.

“We’ll see,” Belinda answered.

Delphine felt an impending sense of doom, yet knew not why. Okay, that was a lie. She knew exactly why. This kid was trouble…


	10. Chapter 10: To Kynesgrove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belinda witnesses a memory of Amanisa's and slays a dragon.

Windhelm, Eastmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 16th of Heartfire, 4E201

So much for the comfort of a proper bed, Lucien thought wearily as they had made their way with Delphine to Whiterun and taken the first carriage to Windhelm. When they arrived at the Whiterun Stables, Belinda looked to a large, off-black mare grazing in the small paddock. She was a fine looking horse and looked like she would be a good sprinter. Sieghard and Dione looked at the horse also.

“She’s a fine horse,” Dione complimented.

“Agreed,” Belinda sighed. “I love horses.”

Sieghard was listening. “I heard Skulvar say her name is Queen Alfsigr,” he told Belinda and Dione.

“What a beautiful name,” Belinda said.

“Hey, are you three coming?” Delphine asked while Lucien hopped onto the wagon.

Belinda took one last look at Queen Alfsigr before she and the others joined Delphine and Lucien on the wagon. They would take the south road to Windhelm, as it was the fastest route. They crossed the bridge over the White River and followed said river for several miles. They had to stop at Valtheim Towers, twin Nordic towers connected by a bridge over the White River. Some brigands had taken up residence in the towers and set up a toll. These fools had picked the wrong wagon to hit. Belinda, Dione, Sieghard, Lucien, and Delphine made short work of the enemy. Belinda was comfortable using Shouts to attack the stronger foes, as long as they others stayed behind her or out of the way when she did so. At least she gave them plenty of warning. By the time they cleared the towers and piles up the bodies to burn them, it was almost dark, and so they set up camp for the night. They moved on the following morning.

The road was long and bumpy, keeping Belinda from falling asleep out of boredom. Dione had taken to reading “The Real Barenziah, Vol. 1” during the ride. Sieghard slept with no issue while Delphine looked at a map of dragon burial mounds. According to her, the next major mound was the one at Kynesgrove. Everyone had been skeptical that dragons were being brought back from the dead. At first. The idea was crazy. But after some consideration, it made sense. How else would it explain dragons suddenly coming back now?  
Lucien went hunting around midday. He left his belongings on the wagon and promised to return within the hour. Sieghard shared some of his jerky with the group. As Lucien had said, he returned within the hour with a little blood on his fur and a few rabbits in his mouth. Belinda wiped the blood off him while Sieghard bagged the rabbits for supper. They arrived in Windhelm that night, immediately met by an unpleasant sight.

“You come here where you’re not wanted,” said a weasel of a Nord to a Dunmer woman. “You eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!” He was joined a by a large Nord in ragged clothing.

“But we haven’t taken a side because it’s not our fight,” defended the Dunmer.

“Hey, maybe the reason these grey-skins don’t help in the war is because they’re Imperial spies,” the Nord in rags pointed out.

Sieghard started growling, eyes shifting to yellow.

“Imperial spies?!” the Dunmer exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”

“Maybe we’ll pay you a visit tonight, little spy,” said the shorter Nord. “We got ways of finding out what you really are.”

Sieghard had heard enough.

“Sieghard, don’t,” Belinda said, but it was too late.

Sieghard went over and slammed his fist into the short Nord’s face. The one in rags jumped in to help his friend, but Sieghard turned and kicked him in the gut. The smaller Nord quickly got up and charged. The guards came and started breaking up the fight. Dione sighed in annoyance and strode over. The guards were starting to cuff Sieghard up and she stepped over.

“He’s a friend of the Thieves Guild,” she whispered to the guard trying to restrain Sieghard. She pulled out a pouch of gold and continued with, “Those milkdrinkers were harassing a woman and he was defending her honor.”

The guard sighed and accepted the money. He let Sieghard go. “Keep him out of trouble,” he warned Dione, who nodded.

“No promises,” she stated simply. The guards left, hauling the other Nords away.

Dione turned to Sieghard and gave him a hard glare. “Calm yourself.”

Sieghard let out a huff. “I hate little bastards like them,” he snarled.

“As do I, but we can’t go around picking fights,” Dione pointed out. “And need I remind you that you’re Harbinger of the Companions? Not only that, but your eyes are yellow and your teeth are getting bigger.”

Sieghard took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Belinda was helping the Dark Elf the two Nords had been harassing. They were picking up a loaf of bread and some produce that had been knocked out of a basket. 

“Thank you,” the Dunmer said, holding her shopping basket. “That Rolff is really…” She stopped for saying anything.

“A real sack of shit?” Belinda asked. “Trust me, sweetheart, people like him need a swift kick to the crotch. Or a mace to the thick-ass skull...” She wanted to say bat, but that would only confuse everyone.

The Dunmer chuckled. “You’re in the wrong city then; Windhelm is practically a haven of prejudice and narrow-minded thinking,” she then said with an annoyed sigh.

“Windhelm used to actually be a decent city; what happened?” Belinda asked.

“Most Nords would tell you grey-skins and lizards came here,” the Dark Elf answered.

“Oh, so racism,” Belinda groaned. “I’m so fucking sick of racism. No matter where I go, I can’t escape it. I know not all Altmer are bad, but I’d burn the Aldmeri Dominion to the ground if I could.”

“You and me both,” the Dark Elf said. “They are the main reason for the racism these days, though some Nords will come up with any excuse to harass and bully my people,   
especially that Rolff Stone-Fist and his friend Angrenor Once-Honored.”

“He says you refuse to help the Stormcloaks? Heh, I’m sure those knuckle-dragging drunks do oh-so-much for Ulfric,” Sieghard said.

“According to my sources: They don’t beside spread hate propaganda and bigotry,” Dione pointed out.

“Typical over-privileged bigots,” Belinda muttered. “‘It’s always someone else’s responsibility and not mine.’ That’s the main problem with the politicians where I’m from. They’re over-privileged and think it’s everyone else’s problem but theirs. That’s why my home is such a wreck these days.”

“Where is this?” the Dark Elf asked.

“Oh, just about everywhere you look these days,” Belinda answered. “Anyway, it was pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Suvaris Atheron,” the Dark Elf responded.

“Ms. Atheron,” Belinda said with a nod.  
Suvaris then disappeared into the Grey Quarter while the party entered Candlehearth Hall to rent a few rooms for the night. Lucien was thrilled to finally be able to sleep on a bed that night. He curled up at Belinda’s feet and fell asleep after a good supper. Dione laid on her belly, reading a book. Belinda picked up a book of the nightstand and opened it up to read.

“So what’s happening on your plane?” Dione asked.

“A remarkably pointless war,” Belinda answered. “It’s gone on for some time and it’s really more about stealing the country’s resources than actually finding the people responsible for something terrible done to our country. Also, there’s an election for a new president going on this year and I’m too young to vote.”

“Sounds like fun,” Dione muttered, flipping the page of her book.

“Sarcasm?” Belinda asked, raising a brow.

“Yep; it sounds more like a big fat load of bullshit,” Dione replied.

“That is exactly what it is!” Belinda exclaimed with exasperation.

Delphine then entered the room, heading for one of the two remaining empty beds. She looked tired as she laid down and quickly fell asleep. For her sake, Belinda and Dione themselves decided to be quiet before going to sleep as well. Sieghard joined them a little later, drunkenly stumbling to the last bed. The women woke briefly before settling back into their sleep...

She wasn’t quite sure where she was. But it looked familiar. Towers of marble and crystal rose above trees of red maple and the golden birch native to Lothlorien. There were trees bearing fruits, though some of these fruit-bearing trees were in a perpetual state of blossoming, with petals fluttering in the wind. There were so many beautiful gardens, magical animal running around, and young mages training and working with animals to create powerful magic. This place was nothing but sheer beauty. Belinda wanted to stay here forever.

No, she wasn’t Belinda right now. Her senses were stronger than that of a human’s. She saw and heard with perfect clarity. She reached up to brush a strand of black hair behind her ear, which was long and tapered. She was an elf! She turned to a mirror. Her features were a little sharper, but it was undoubtedly her face. It hit her then. She was Amanisa. She was dressed in an elegant, flowing white gown with her hair in a braided bun. She turned from the crystal city and entered her room from the balcony as her door opened. Karr stepped in. His hair was still white and his eyes were blind, but he looked younger.

“The deed is done,” he reported.

“Thank you, my love,” Amanisa said.

“His Spark ignited as you said it would,” Karr added.

Amanisa nodded, and then looked down. “Then there is much work to be done,” she sighed. “We only have so much time before he returns to us.”  
Karr walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, making her look up to him. “We have time,” he assured. Amanisa stared into Karr’s eyes, smiling. He always knew how to calm her. They leaned in and kissed one another. Karr’s hands moved from her shoulders to her upper back. He held her close to him, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She sighed into the kiss, wrapping her hand arms around Karr’s waist. He provided a sense of security, and reminded the ancient elf of what love was like. It was a wonderful thing.  
Karr swooped her up into his arms and littered her face with kisses. Amanisa giggled. She was carried to her bed and was dropped on it and he climbed over her. They chuckled and smiled, and a feather fell onto Amanisa’s nose.

“You’re molting again,” she teased.

“So? You said you needed new feather pillows anyway,” Karr laughed, leaning in and kissing Amanisa’s neck.

“That’s I do,” Amanisa moaned. She reached and grabbed Karr’s shirt, tugging it until it was removed and discarded. She started feeling Karr’s arms. He very lean and thankfully not bulky. Just how she liked her men. Of course, she would never say no to Karr’s six pack, which she breathily felt as Karr moved up to lick, kiss, and nibble on her sensitive elf ears. “Oh, fuck me!” she gasped.

“Soon enough, my love,” Karr chuckled.

“Oh, you dirty, rotten, son of a-. MMPH!” Karr silenced the Elf with a hungry kiss. He pulled her up and undid the laces on the back of her dress. He pulled it down to reveal her breasts. They were fair-sized; not too big, not too small. To him, they were perfect. He kissed down to them, teasing his love further. He took in a nipple and suckled on it, getting whines of pleasure from Amanisa. She was enjoying this. A little too much. 

Karr stopped and pulled away. Amanisa let out a pathetic whine. He impatiently ripped off her dress and undergarments and flipped her over. He gently ran his hand over her buttocks and she tensed with anticipation. They tended to be very…Kinky. Karr then raised his hand. And waited a few minutes. Amanisa lifted her backside up a little, knowing what he wanted. The Half-Angel smirked devilishly and landed a nice, hard smack. The Elf yelped. Karr repeated until Amanisa’s skin was red. She looked at him, eyes full of want.  
He finished undressing as she rolled over onto her back. He was already rock-hard. Amanisa licked her lips and spread her legs invitingly for him. Karr came over and thrust inside of her. She moaned loudly, back arching. He leaned down and kissed her, thrusting. She kissed back, holding onto him like her life depended on it.

“Gods above, you’re tight as ever,” Karr grunted.

“Oh, Karr,” Amanisa moaned, locking eyes with the Half-Angels.

He pulled her close, holding her, loving her. They were so madly in love…

Belinda awoke, eye snapping open, wet. “Being a teenager sucks,” she groaned. “Damn hormones…” She got out of bed and went to the bathroom for some privacy.

\---

Kynesgrove, Eastmarch Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 17th of Heartfire, 4E201

It snowed from the very second they left Windhelm. They travelled on foot to Kynesgrove, which was south of Windhelm along the edges of the Sulfur Pools. There were some wildlife here and there, and plenty of jazbay grapes, some of which Belinda grabbed to eat. They were lacking in flavor, but still juicy and a bit tangy. It was a shame, really, that they were not very flavorful otherwise. They soon reached Kynesgrove to the civilians fleeing away from the settlement, which included an inn, a small, and miners’ tents. Someone had grabbed the chickens and was running. A woman stopped, leading two children.

“You don’t want to go there!” she exclaimed. “There’s a dragon at the old burial mound behind the inn!”

Belinda looked behind her, and saw the large black dragon. “Shit, that’s the one that attacked Helgan,” she cursed.

“Are you sure?” Delphine asked.

“Positive,” Belinda answered. “We need to get up there!” They group ran past the woman and her children, past the inn, and up to the burial mound. They hid behind a boulder and watched the black dragon fly around. There was a beam of energy around the mound. Belinda could sense the powerful black mana, rousing the skeleton of the dragon beneath. There was a form of necromancy going on here. Soon, the black dragon started to hover in front of the mound and spoke.

“Sahloknir, zill gro dovah ulse!” he shouted.

“What did he say?” Sieghard asked.

“I don’t know!” Dione answered.

“SLEN-TIID-VO!” the dragon shouted, a forcing emitting from his mouth. It blasted the burial mound, and roused the dragon to life.

The dragon skeleton burst from the ground with a terrible, spine-chilling roar. The sound of death. It slammed into skeletal wings against the ground and pulled itself out of the ground. Organs formed first, then flesh. The scales came soon after. And when the dragon was fully formed, it opened its eyes to see the world once more. He looked up toward the black dragon and spoke.

“Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?” It sounded like a question.

“Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir,” the black dragon, Alduin, answered.

Belinda stepped out of hiding, Alduin and Sahloknir turning their heads to look at her. They saw the dragon spirit within her.

“Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu’u koraav nid nol dov do hi?” Alduin asked.

Belinda looked at the ground, trying to register what he was saying. She had always had been bad at spelling until the 5th grade. Mostly because she wasn’t meant to understand English/Common. It’s why she also had trouble speaking for years and she still had trouble. She was supposed to speak the language of the dragons. Slowly, the words came and translated, but Alduin beat her to speech.

“You do not even know our tongue, do you?” he asked. It was guttural, and sounded unnatural. “Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah.”

“Oh, fuck you! It’s not my fault I was raised on the wrong language!” Belinda snapped.

Alduin chuckled, and then turned back to Sahloknir. “Sahloknir, krii daar joorre!” he ordered.

Belinda did not need to translate that to know what that meant. It had already formed in her head. “Kill these mortals,” Alduin had said. The black then flew away, leaving Sahloknir to fend for himself. Belinda drew her sword, the others coming out of hiding with their own weapons. Sahloknir took to the skies, Shouting fire upon them. Dione had already raised a ward to guard them from the flames.

When the flames passed, Dione drew an arrow to her bow and imbue with ice and lightning. Sieghard waited patiently on the ground, Wuuthrad in his hands. He swung back. Belinda threw a fireball at Sahloknir. Dione shot her arrow, but it didn’t really do much to the dragon. From the ground, the dragon was unreachable with melee weapons. And ranged attacks were barely working. Not to mention there was little Lucien could actually do. Dragons would easily see past illusions. Sahloknir swooped down, Shouting fire again. Dione shot him while Sieghard charged in and cut at the dragon’s face. The dragon roared in pain and veered up, flying into the sky again. The group needed to get this dragon on the ground so they could fight him!

“We need a plan!” Delphine shouted, taking cover.

“Well, no shit Captain Obvious!” Belinda responded.

The group ducked for the cover of boulders and trees. Belinda needed to think. She was Dragonborn. She was meant to slay dragons! Sahloknir landed. Or Belinda could improvise like at the tower. Lucien looked up to her and said, “We might just have this.”

Belinda nodded and tapped Lucien’s spirit. She could feel magic run through her, feel the tinges of blue and green mana. She used illusion to camouflage with her surroundings and to quiet her footsteps. Sahloknir growled, looking through the trees, trying to find her. Finally, Belinda got behind him and climbed up his tail hurriedly. The illusion dispersed when she did. Sahloknir roared, shaking his body to throw her off. Belinda grabbed onto one of the spikes on his back. Soon, Sahloknir took flight.

“THIS WAS A BAD IDEA!” Belinda shouted.

The other came out of hiding, seeing Sahloknir trying to get Belinda off him. Belinda was screaming, holding on for dear life, especially when the dragon flipped in an attempt to get rid of her. When he was gliding, the Dragonborn took a deep breath and proceeded forward. Once she was between his wings, she drew her sword and plunged it into his back. Sahloknir roared in agony, wings paralyzed. He descended and crashed into the ground. Belinda pulled out her sword and ran up to Sahloknir’s head. She stabbed him in the head and the dragon died.

Winds and ancient whispers whirled around her as she absorbed the dragon’s soul. The others watched in awe, and Delphine came forward. This time, Belinda was able to free her sword and hopped off Sahloknir’s corpse.

“Okay, ask anything. No bars hold.”


	11. Chapter 11: Houses and Dresses

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 20th of Heartfire, 4E201

After getting the people to calm down and return to Kynesgrove, the group, minus Delphine, returned to the city of Whiterun. Delphine claimed it would be safer that way. Sieghard went to Jorrvaskr and Belinda, Lucien, and Dione went to the inn. They sat at a table and waited for someone to come take their order. It was Olfina Whitemane this time.

“What’s the special today?” Belinda asked.

“Clam chowder,” Olfina answered.

“I’ll take a bowl of that, and-. Do you know how to make grilled cheese sandwiches?” Belinda questioned.

“Never heard of that,” Olfina replied.

“Drat; those go real well with clam chowder,” Belinda huffed.

Dione giggled. “I’ll have clam chowder,” she pointed out.

Belinda looked to Lucien, who was seated in a chair and looking quite proper. “Grilled salmon. Season it with a little catnip if you have any and he’ll take a bowl of red wine if you have it.”

“I-. Uh…What?” Olfina asked.

“I know it’s weird; you don’t have to point it out,” Belinda responded. “Also, I’ll have some mead to drink.”

“Same,” Dione added.

Olfina nodded and went to the bar to fetch the drinks. She set them on the table and went into the kitchen. Lucien chuckled.

“I do so love baffling people,” he said.

“I love baffling people as much as the next person,” Belinda agreed, “but you could have at least taken your own order.”

“And be called the Daedra Cat? Perish the thought,” Lucien huffed, in mock offense. “You know, I really miss the Middle Earth from my youth. They’re bat a lash and then realize   
Amanisa was there before shrugging it off and take my order. On a lot of worlds, I must be careful where I speak or all Hell breaks loose.”

“I would think that on some worlds, a talking cat would be the least of anyone’s worries,” Belinda laughed.

Lucien chuckled. “Especially Innistrad,” he stated. “The place is a mess. It wasn’t always like that, mind you.” He fell silent as the food was brought out. Lucien purred loudly as he was brought his salmon steaks seasoned with catnip. He was one happy kitty.

“Never thought I’d serve a cat,” Olfina muttered.

“He really loves the food,” Belinda commented. “Hey, are there any houses for sale in Whiterun?” she asked Olfina.

Olfina thought on it. “There is Breezehome next to Warmaidens down by the gate,” she answered. “It’s about 5,000 Septims, last I checked and it admittedly needs some work done on it.”

“Thank you,” Belinda said.

Olfina nodded and walked off.

“Why the interest in property?” Dione asked.

“To set up something of a base of operations,” Belinda replied. “I’m going a place to stash my treasures and whatnot and sleep for…Generally for free.”

Dione nodded understandingly. “Kind of like how I have Honeyside in Riften.” She took a sip of her mead. “I’d talk to the steward about buying a home here in the city, or with buying land in general.”

Belinda nodded. “I should like to see the house first though.”

After paying for their meal, the trio exited the inn and went to Breezehome. The exterior was okay, but the roof was in need of repairs. Dione picked the lock and they entered the house. Belinda took out a lantern and lit it. It needed some serious cleaning and more than some work. There was no individual rooms and one could see the second floor through the floorboards. Was there even a basement? There was a fire pit in the center of the main room, but that was about it. It was also drafty.

“What a dump,” Belinda commented. “This place isn’t worth five grand.”

“Not really, no,” Dione agreed.

Belinda tried the stairs and one broke upon receiving her weight. She gave a cry and reached for anything. Except there wasn’t even a railing she could grab onto! She grabbed at the wall and braced herself against the stair ahead of her. Dione helped her back down.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Belinda huffed. “Some work my ass. A lot of work.”

Lucien then sneezed. “And dusty…”

“Bet we can get good deal on this dump,” Dione pointed out.

They went to Dragonsreach the next day and spoke to the steward, giving him a lowball offer of a thousand septims. They refused to pay more than two grand at most.

“Only a thousand?!” Steward Avenicci exclaimed. “It is worth more than that!” He was understandably outraged. First they broke into the house and now they were demanding a lower price!”

“The place is a deathtrap,” Belinda stated. “I’m glad I looked into the property before buying! My foot went through a bloody stair when I was going up to see the second floor! Hell, I don’t even trust the second floor. I need the extra money to repair the damned house if I buy it.”

“Forty-five-hundred,” Proventus haggled.

“Fifteen-hundred,” Dione offered, locking eyes with Proventus, smirking and eyes unblinking.

“Erm…2,000?” Proventus responded, looking a tad nervous.

Dione looked to Belinda, who shook her head. “Try again,” the Dunmer told Proventus, looking back to him.

“Fine, 1,500 Septims,” the steward groaned.

“Deal,” Belinda and Dione said in union.

\---

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 22nd of Heartfire, 4E201

“Have you lost your damned mind?” Belinda asked Delphine at the Sleeping Giant Inn the day after she bought Breezehome. Upon arriving, Delphine had led the group to her secret basement and told them she had a plan: Infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy during one of Elenwen’s soirees and find any information pertaining to the dragons’ return. It was a stupid idea! “I knew you were crazy, but this is well over the line of insane.”

Delphine rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Well, what else do you recommend? That place is locked up tighter than a miser’s purse.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure the Thalmor would just let us waltz in during a party,” Belinda responded. “We don’t exactly blend in.”

“Jarl Balgruuf is attending and his invitation says plus one,” Dione pointed out.

“How the Hell do you even know that?” Sieghard asked.

“I happened to have seen said invite,” Dione answered. “In fact, anyone in Skyrim worth knowing will likely have received an invite, Thanes included. In fact…” She pulled out an invitation. “I happen to have one of my own. Sieghard probably has one as well. Of course, he’s also the Harbinger of the Companions.” The group looked at invitation, which read for the 27th of Heartfire, which was less than a week away. “I hadn’t planned on attending, but it looks like I will be after all. However, we’ll need a way to smuggle our weapons inside. They’re not going to just let us walk about with weapons.”

“I can arrange that,” Delphine pointed out. “I have an insider in the embassy. Bosmer named Malborn. He had plenty of reason to hate the Thalmor. However, he will not be up for this kind of high risk assignment. He can still smuggle what you will need inside. Give him only things you cannot live without.”

Belinda received her invitation via a courier. She was not an easy woman to find. The group then spent some time trying to figure out what they would need. Sieghard really didn’t want to entrust Wuuthrad to just anyone, so he left it behind and grabbed a Skyforge Steel war axe instead. He decided to pack leather armor as well. Dione left her Nightingale Bow and Sword behind, knowing spells that would be helpful. She did pack her Thieves Guild armor and a bunch of lock picks though. Belinda settled on her Skyforge Steel sword and leather armor also. Like Dione, she knew spells that would help her. Lucien had already gone ahead to scout the area around the Thalmor Embassy and look for escape routes in the event of a quick getaway. After packing the essentials for Delphine’s man, they hopped a wagon with Jarl Balgruuf and Irelith and headed for Solitude.

“I thought you had no interest in attending parties,” Balgruuf said to Sieghard.

“I don’t, but this is business,” Sieghard responded.

“Ah, business, my favorite word,” Dione chuckled.

Belinda was looking at her invitation, not quite sure what to think of this. She was only invited because she was a Thane. But that would make it easier for the Thalmor to keep an eye on her if things went sour. In her mind, they most likely. Curse you, Murphy’s Law, she thought irritably.

The carriage arrived at Rorikstead that night and they stayed at the inn. They would have been well on their way early the following morning, if Alduin hadn’t shown up, resurrected a dragon that promptly attacked the village, and forced Belinda, Sieghard, and Dione to fight back. Dione conjured a Daedric bow and arrows to her hands and attacked. Belinda started using lightning bolts to try and get it out of the sky. She remembered her youth, playing Pokemon and remembering flying types were weak against lightning. Of course, this was also a Dragon and this wasn’t a turn-based video game. The Dragon was actually moving and evading her attacks. It was frustrating. The guards came in to help slay the dragon and Irelith started barking orders.

Belinda reached into the plains around her and drew on the white mana. She needed something with wings. Across the eternities, she felt something powerful. She called on it, summoned it into the world. It was a giant eagle, proud and noble. This would work. Belinda hopped on its back with her sword in hand and they took off. Dione distracted the dragon with bolts of fire and lightning. The eagle flew above the dragon and Belinda jumped off. She landed on his neck and climbed up to his head. She grabbed onto his horns as he whipped his head about, trying to throw her off. Of course, this made the dragon a clumsy flyer and he had to stop and hover to do so. This left plenty of opening for anyone with ranged attacks to start assaulting him with fire, lightning, ice, and arrows. He lowered enough to be in range for Dione, one of the locals Rorik, and even Irelith to start encasing his tail in ice. Dione made sure to make a point, which impaled the ground when the dragon lowered itself even further.

Stuck in the ground, the dragon tried pulling away, but Dione had controlled her ice and made anchor of sorts. Belinda then brought her sword down into the dragon’s skull. The dragon let out a shriek of pain and fell onto its side. Belinda fell off and absorbed its soul. Balgruuf and Delphine watched in awe at the sight. He knew since the Greybeards’ call, but to see it for himself was a wonder. Belinda then retrieved her sword from the corpse, planting her foot against the skull and yanking the sword free.

The eagle flew overhead, soon giving a screech. Belinda dismissed him back to the plane he came from. No creature deserved to be separated from their world, even for a little while. But she had needed him, and the power of the plains gave her what she needed to call him. Dione looked to her.

“Where did he come from?” she asked.

“Middle Earth,” Belinda answered. “Dione, when you summon something from another world, make sure to send them back. They don’t deserve to be trapped on a foreign world.”

Dione nodded.

\---

Solitude, Haafingar Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 26th of Heartfire, 4E201

The rest of the journey to Solitude was uneventful. At some point, they were joined by the other Jarls, Thanes, and Housecarls loyal to the empire. Sadly, they picked a lousy time to enter the city of Solitude. An execution was taking place right next to the gates and a crowd had gathered to watch. Belinda rolled her eyes in disgust at the commoners all gathered to watch someone die. People were all psychotic, she decided. Why do people get such enjoyment out of someone else’s misfortune?

“They can’t hurt Uncle Roggvir!” a little girl cried to her father. “Tell them he didn’t do it!”

“Svari, you need to go home and wait until your mother comes,” responded the girl’s father.

The girl, Svari, looked down, shoulders slumping. She turned and raced home. A woman with dark hair in a yellow dress walked up and said, “You should tell her the truth. Better she learn now that her uncle is scum that betrayed his king.”

“Bitch,” Belinda said, making the woman whip around to face her.

“Excuse me?” she demanded.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot heartless bitches are easily offended,” Belinda responded, and everyone turned to see what was happening. “Shall I coddle you further?”

There were some snickers and ooohs. Dione and Sieghard were trying not to smile or laugh. The Jarls, Thanes, and Housecarls who came to Solitude stared.

“How dare you!” the woman snapped.

“No, how dare you!” Belinda responded. “While I do believe in telling children the cold hard truth of reality, you shouldn’t be an asshole about! Of course, it’s not your kid. So why should you care, right? Maybe you should. But that would mean replacing that cold, dead rock with an actual heart, now wouldn’t?”

The woman was about to say something more when the Captain of the Guard came over. “Ladies, enough of this,” he commanded.

“So sorry I’m calling a bunch of mindless sheep out on their bullshit,” Belinda pointed out. “Of course, I don’t believe in public executions. But then again, they do tend to show people’s true, psychotic natures, don’t it?”

The gathered crowd was silent as Belinda turned to stare them down. She was right, they knew she was right. But as was typical of sheep, they were all too afraid to speak out or say anything out of fear of being next on the chopping block. The captain of the guard groaned and turned to the crowd. “Everyone but the family of Roggvir, return to your homes or places of work!” he commanded. No one spoke out and they cleared out. The Jarls, Thanes, and Housecarls went into the inn. Sieghard and Dione followed. Belinda was about to head inside herself when a woman came over.

“Thank you,” she said. She and the man who had been talking to the girl Svari went up to be with Roggvir in his final moments. Belinda went inside the inn, hearing the axe fall before she even shut the door.

I wonder if there’s a flower shop in town, she thought, closing the door.

\---

Radiant Raiment, Haafingar Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 27th of Heartfire, 4E201

Malborn had been inside the inn waiting for the trio. He took their items and headed back to the embassy. After a quick meal, the three went to Radiant Raiment to get clothes for the following evening. The two Altmer sister worked hard to get clothes fitted for them on such short notice. Because the embassy was up in the mountains and therefore cold, the clothes had to be heavy and fur-lined. Sieghard ended up in a pair of black, heavy cotton trousers, the hems of which were tucked into a pair of brown leather boots lines with fur; a white, long-sleeved tunic with a brown leather vest with elegant impressions and gold buttons; a dark green, fur-lined mantle of velveteen that he wore draped over his left shoulder; and brown leather gloves. He had brushed his blonde hair back into a loose horsetail and trimmed his beard.

“You look so handsome,” Dione complimented. She, herself, looked like royalty. She had a crow and moon motif going on in dark blue and violet. Her snowy hair was wound up into an elegant, twisted bun that made a number 8 figure, held tight by pins. Her dress was a billowing violet with a dark blue corset and underdress, giving layers to the dress. Her corset had crows and moon phases pressed in, and the crows were painted black with violet eyes while the moons were a silvery-white. The long, dark blue sleeves of the underdress had silvery-white swirls along them. On her small feet were black leather boots. The violet accented her dusky blue skin and lilac eyes wonderfully. She had added eyeliner and lilac powder to her upper eyelids and cheeks and a gloss to her lilac lips to highlight her eyes, lips, and cheeks. She would undoubtedly be the bell of the ball with how beautiful she was. The outfit was complete with a fluorite pendant on strings of violet ribbon, a dark blue cords, and a platinum chain and matching fluorite and platinum clip-on earrings

“Wow,” Sieghard said.

“That all you can say?” Dione asked.

Sieghard mentally kicked himself. He had a wife back in Whiterun for the gods’ sakes!

“Now then, where’s Belinda?”

“Here.” Belinda stepped out, hair swept into a side braid that was draped over her right shoulder. Over her left ear was a clip with a purple, fake dragon scale with sparkly silver edges. She wore clip-on earrings with smaller scales and dragon scale choker with a star cut amethyst hanging on it. The dress was silvery, with a Queen Anne neckline and a slimming body. She had long black gloves, long black boots, and a black corset with a purple satin ribbon running up the front; the side panels were purple, lilac, and silver scales to match her choker and earrings. There was purple embroidery along the hems, making the dress a little more elegant, but it was still rather plain. She looked at the two. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Lovely,” Sieghard answered.

“Really? I know it’s really plain, but I really don’t want to stand out too much,” Belinda pointed out. “But for some reason, I like it. I usually like the color purple, not grey.”

“Well, I think it suits you,” Dione assured her.

Lucien entered, shaking snow off his spotted black fur and little purple velveteen cloak. He pushed the hood off with the back of his front left paw. “I’m back, and you all look lovely,” he announced.

“Well, aren’t you just a little flatterer,” Dione said. “So, what have you got for us?” she asked.

“An old back road in the mountains,” Lucien answered. “There’s a cave that connects to the prison block at the Thalmor Embassy. In the cave was a Frost Troll, but don’t worry, I   
took care of it with the help of the local wildlife. So you have an escape route. However, it’s guarded, so you may have to fight or sneak your way through the place.”

“Easy enough,” Belinda declared. “Now, who’s ready to dance?”


	12. Chapter 12: Diplomatic Immunity

The Thalmor Embassy, Haafingar Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 27th of Heartfire, 4E201

Lucien waited at the cave while the others rented a carriage and got in, taking it up the mountain and to the Thalmor Embassy so as not to get their finery covered in snow and mud. It irritated Sieghard that they had to rely on a carriage to take them up the mountain. Upon arrival, a footman opened the door and helped them out. They handed their invitations to the doormen, who gave them each a pat down. Belinda and Dione blushed angrily when the doormen put their hands on their breasts. Belinda slapped the one who laid his hands on her.

“How dare you, PIG!” she barked, covering her breasts.

“My apologies, ma’am!” the doorman exclaimed, withdrawing his hands quickly.

The trio then entered the embassy. Music was playing and people talked. The Housecarls were all off to the side, chattering amongst themselves. There was food and drinks and the air seemed rather stuffy. A couple people danced, but it mostly seemed to be a lot of standing around and talking. Clearly, Elenwen hadn’t much clue of how to host a proper party, and while Belinda hadn’t attended a lot of parties in her life, she was sure she had a better idea than Elenwen.

“This is a party? Boring,” Belinda whispered to Dione and Sieghard. “Like, where’s the decorations? Even soirees on Innistrad are more colorful than this. Admittedly, there is a lot of red…”

“Do I want to know?” Sieghard asked.

“I don’t think so,” Belinda answered.

Elenwen herself then approached them. “Good evening,” she greeted, feigning politeness. The trio could smell her fakeness a mile away. But they two needed to fake being polite.

“Good evening,” Belinda responded.

“I am Elenwen, First Emissary to the realm of Skyrim,” Elenwen introduced. “I have not seen either of you here before. Please, introduce yourselves.”

“I am Sieghard Wolf-Son, Harbinger of the Companions.”

“Dione Nightingale, Archmage of Winterhold.”

“Belinda Scale, Thane of Whiterun.” I need a cooler title, Belinda thought. “And Dragonslayer.” Better.

“Ah yes, I remember your names from the guest list,” Elenwen said. “I must admit, I have previously invited Mr. Wolf-Son and Ms. Nightingale in the past, but neither of you have made appearances. Even Mr. Wolf-Son’s predecessor had declined many of my invitations and I was under the impression none of you would attend.”

“We’ve all been rather busy,” Sieghard explained. “If not for my lovely friends here, I likely would not have attended. But someone needs to keep an eye on them. Now, where’s the mead?” he asked.

“We don’t have mead,” Elenwen replied. “We have fine wines, brandy, whisky-.”

“Sounds good,” Belinda said, and earned Elenwen’s attention.

“Now, you, Miss Scale,” Elenwen started. “Seventeen and thane of Whiterun, made such for slaying a dragon. What brought you to Skyrim?”

“I like it here,” Belinda responded. “Skyrim is quite beautiful.”

“I see.” Elenwen proceeded to continue, when Malborn interrupted her.

“Madam Ambassador,” he called.

“What is it, Malborn?” Elenwen demanded angrily, turning to the bar.

“It’s just that we’ve run out of the Alto Wine,” Malborn answered. “Do I have your permission to uncork the-.”

“Of course!” Elenwen snapped. “I told you before not to bother me with such trifles!”

Bitch, Belinda thought.

Elenwen turned back to them. “Forgive me; perhaps we shall talk later.” She walked off to mingle.

“Not,” Belinda muttered

Dione giggled and they walked up to Malborn. “Okay, listen,” he started in a hushed tone, “you are going to need to create a distraction of some sort so we can slip out of here, unnoticed.”

“Easy,” Belinda said.

“As long as it isn’t something stupid like setting the place on fire,” Malborn added.

“Still easy,” Belinda pointed out.

“You clearly don’t have a lot of faith in us,” Dione said, giving a cocky grin, “and besides, setting the place on fire means we wouldn’t be able to loot it. Just imagine the treasures that these Thalmor horde to themselves.”

“Is that so lass?” asked a smooth, heavily accented voice.

The trio spun round to face a tall, handsome Nord man with dark red hair and stubble a few shades darker; silvery eyes, and…

Oh, so yummy, Belinda thought, her mindset running to stereotypical high school girl who just saw the heart throb of the school in movies about teenage drama. “Oh, by the Divines, you’re sexy,” she just blurted out, voice cracking and instantly regretted saying it. “I’m gonna just shaddup now…” She walked off, face red as an apple and mentally kicking herself for what just happened.

Dione giggled, turning to the Nord. “Oh, Bryn, you know how to make girls put their feet in their mouths,” she said. She looked to him, trying to appear flirty. It appeared to be working as the man she called Bryn took her by the hips and pulled her close.

“Whatever happened to ‘I don’t do parties’?” Bryn asked, leaning in close.

Dione put her hands on Bryn’s chest and pushed him away. “Why, Brynjolf, darling, this is business!” she replied, theatrically. She then looked at him, looking seductive. “Are you not here with a proper Nord woman, as you should be?”

“I’d rather be with you, Lass,” Brynjolf chuckled, taking Dione’s small hand and kissing it gently.

“Now, who are you here with so I can rob her blind,” Dione ordered him.

“And they have completely forgotten the mission,” Sieghard said to Malborn, who facepalmed in annoyance.

“I knew this was a bad idea; we should abort the mission,” the Wood Elf agreed.

Belinda was walking around, feeling slightly overwhelmed. This was not her setting for a reason. The music, laughing, talking, and crowded space was overstimulating her. She slipped away to a corner and took a deep breath. She needed to just calm down. She hated crowded spaces. She needed the open air and for people to be a little more spread out. She closed her eyes and imagined the sky, the sun beaming down from the blue heaven, clouds drifting by every so often. Wind accompanied birdsong and Belinda felt soft grass against her bare feet. A feather lazily drifted down and landed at her feet. She looked up again and she was a child again, Karr smiling down at her as he hovered. It was late spring, and Karr’s wings were molting. She giggled, and felt a hand on her shoulder.

Belinda jumped, remembering where she was and looked to Sieghard, who had put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Sieghard asked.

“Yeah, just a little overstimulated is all,” Belinda answered. “This is why I don’t like parties, especially in cramped, crowded places.” She looked down. “I should have left this to Dione. She’s clearly better at this than me.”

“I have an idea,” said Dunmer told them, appearing from seemingly nowhere. They looked to her. She turned and pointed to a Redguard man sitting near the bar. “You see him   
there?” she asked her companions.

 

“I do,” Belinda answered.

“Aye,” Sieghard agreed.

“That is Razelan, a merchant in good standing with the East Empire Company,” Dione explained. “He has a weakness for strong drinks, particularly Colovian Brandy. Now, while Elenwen didn’t say they had Colovian Brandy, she said brandy is available. If we’re lucky, Malborn might have some.”

“You are brilliant,” Belinda complimented.

“Thank you.” Dione then fetched a glass of Colovian Brandy and gave it to Razelan, asking for a distraction in exchange. While Razelan joked about Elenwen, the trio snuck off with Malborn in the kitchen. He argued with a Khajiit and silenced her with threats of reporting her moon sugar addiction to Elenwen. The Khajiit hissed and sent them on their way. Malborn led them to the pantry where they gathered their belongings. They changed into their leather armor and Dione snuck ahead to scout. She was like a shadow in the well-lit corridor. She knew where to duck and hide, blending in so well. All things considered, she should have stood out. And yet, that was another thing about Planeswalkers. They were talented at what seemed to be the impossible. Of course, in Dione’s case, she crashed and burned when it came to picking someone’s pocket. She could never quite seem to do it right, no matter how hard she tried.

Master thief my ass, she would think bitterly whenever she failed. It’s why she never took those jobs. Easier to sneak around, pick locks, and steal from inanimate objects. At least they didn’t cry for the guards.

Sieghard lingered behind while Belinda creeped along. At a doorway, she carefully peered around the corner. She was doing more thinking than she probably should have. Dione seemed to work on pure instinct rather than thought. However, Belinda wanted to hear what the two Thalmor in the next room were talking about.

“Did you see those robes march in this morning?” the first guard asked, leaning casually against the bar. He was clad in Dominion armor, which was aesthetic, functional, and practical. “Who’re they with? More of the Emissary’s treaty enforcers?”

His friend finished his sip of wine, setting the elegantly design glass down on the bar. “No,” he answered. “They’re High Mages just in from Alinor.” He looked to the first guard. “I guess Herself is finally getting worried about all the dragon attacks.”

I can give her a few more things to worry about, Belinda thought.

“Ah, good,” the first guard said. “I’ve been wondering how we were supposed to defend this place from a dragon.”

The second guard chuckled before taking another sip of his wine. “If a dragon does show up,” he began, “maybe we’ll get lucky and it will eat the mages first. Might give us enough time to kill it.”

The first guard laughed. “I’d like to see those arrogant bastards taken down a notch!” he burst. “Always looking down their noses at us lowly footsloggers!” They shared a laugh, and Belinda rolled her eyes in disgust at them.

No respect for even each other, she thought. She looked to the end of the hall where Dione was and carefully breezed her way past the door while Sieghard waited behind. Stealth was not his elemental and he trusted the two Planeswalkers. Belinda entered what looked to be a storeroom of sorts and Dione was looting. “Anything useful?” asked the human to the Dunmer.

“Some Dominion robes and a couple elven weapons; useless china, a couple banned books…Let’s steal the books.” Dione and Belinda grabbed two bags and took a copy of each books. “The Dominion will likely burn these for being heretical. I personally like collecting books, as does the College of Winterhold. And I suspect Lucien would appreciate them also.”

Belinda nodded in agreement, grabbing a bow and arrows to use. Unlike Dione, she didn’t know how to conjure Daedric weapons. Dione, meanwhile, dipped into the land and pulled what she needed to summon a Daedric bow and arrows. They needed to take this slow and quietly. The two Alter guards were pacing the other room and the Planeswalkers took them out silently. It was bar with its own pantry where they collected a couple bottles of Surilie Brothers Wine.

“Oh, the good stuff too,” Dione chimed. “The 399 vintage. These are hard to come by now, since a lot of the vintage was lost in the Oblivion Crisis.” She smiled. “I’ll be keeping these.” When she saw a little gold box with beautiful red gem, she took it also and shoved it in her pack.

When they got out back, they saw two guards patrolling the back wall, one guard guarding the building across the courtyard, and a fourth guard patrolling said courtyard. Dione went to work calculating the best move to proceed. She conjured a fresh Daedric bow and notched an arrow to the string. She aimed for the man furthest from the others, he on the far wall and well out of sight, and took him down. She repeated the same to the other wall guard. Both went down quietly while Belinda slinked ahead to the one patrolling the courtyard. She passed through the bushes and struck, driving a dagger into the man’s neck and pulling him into the snowberry bushes. Sieghard then charged the man guarding the door and cut him down with his battle axe.

“That was easy,” Dione commented. “And quiet.”

Sieghard dumped the body into the bushes, out of sight and the trio entered the building. Upon entering, they saw a guard moving away from them and Belinda quickly disposed of her. They saw a door opened a crack and Sieghard and Belinda ducked for cover while the Dione went up to the door and listened in. There was a conversation between two men, one whose voice she recognized.

“But I need that money!” exclaimed the first. “I earned it! I have my own expenses you know!”

“Silence!” demanded the second. Based on his accent being similar to Elenwen’s, she knew he was an Altmer. “Do not presume, Gissur.”

Gissur?! Dione thought. Why that slimy, backstabbing little weasel! She knew Gissur, had dealings with him. His business was information. And his business was about to become hers.

“We have other informants who are less…Offensive,” the Altmer added.

“But no one else has brought you such valuable information, have they?” Gissur asked. Dione could practically hear his eyes widening. “Etienne…He’s talked, hasn’t he?” He took a step away from the door. “He knows where that old man you’re looking for is; he told me himself.”

So that’s what happened to Etienne, Dione thought.

“You’ll get the rest of your money when we confirm him story as agreed,” the Altmer said.

“So he has talked!” Gissur exclaimed. “I knew it!”

“Everyone talks in the end,” the Altmer sighed, sounding bored now. “Now, I have work to do. Leave me to it if you ever want to see the rest of your payment.” He stood, the legs of his chair sliding against the wood telling Dione so.

“Can I…I could help you,” Gissur offered, his greed for coin starting to make him desperate. “He’d talk to me. He trusts me.”

“You’d like to come downstairs with me, is that it, Gissur?” the Altmer asked. “Shall we loose his bonds and put you in a cell together?”

Oh, you can so tell he’s grinning, Dione thought irritably.

“You can ask him anything you like,” the Altmer continued, “and see how he answers.”

“No, no,” Gissur quickly responded. “I’ll…I’ll wait outside.”

“That would probably be best,” the Atlmer agreed. “Now get out!” 

He walked away, going down a flight of stairs. Gissur came out, mumbling to himself. Dione quickly grabbed him and pinned to the floor with his arms behind him and Dione   
pressing on them with her knee.

“Who are you?! What are you doing?!” Gissur exclaimed, struggling against the Dunmer.

“A little birdie told me you betrayed the guild,” Dione answered darkly as Sieghard and Belinda came out of their hiding spots. “You best hope Etienne is still alive. It would be very bad for your health if he isn’t.” She got off him. “You head straight back to Riften and you wait for me at the Ragged Flagon. If anyone asks, tell them you’re waiting for Etienne and me to beat your sorry ass. Now go.”

Gissur got up and ran.

“Friend of yours?” Belinda asked.

“More of an employee,” Dione answered. “Gissur is nothing more than an informant. And apparently has endangered one of my thieves. Etienne is one of my best pickpockets, but has been missing for some time. He said he was going to meet Gissur for drinks one night but never came back. Brynjolf and I went to Gissur and he said he never showed up. Guess they met up after all. That lying bastard.”

“We’ll save him, don’t worry,” Belinda assured her.

They searched the first floor and the upstairs. They found dossiers on Delphine and Ulfric, a report on the Dragons, and a letter for Elenwen on Etienne being interrogated. It seemed the Thalmor were just as baffled about the dragons’ return as the rest of the world. Without a word more, they trio descended into the dungeon where they heard the Altmer, Rulindil, interrogating Etienne, who was being beaten and in a lot of pain.

“Stop! Please!” Etienne pleaded. “I don’t know anything else!”

“Silence!” barked a second Altmer, hitting Etienne in the ribcage with a wooden rod.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Rulindil stated. “If you persist in this stubbornness, I’ll have-.”

“No, wait!” Etienne cried. “There’s an old man living in the Ratways in Riften! I don’t know his name! They just handed me a basket when I was a footpad and told me to take it to his door! It’s kind of like an initiation down there! Sometimes I’m on the schedule to take him the basket, sometimes I’m not!”

“And his name is…?” Rulindil asked.

“For the like the thousandth time, I don’t know his damn name!” Etienne shouted. His was struck again by the second Altmer, and then passed out.

“So, how do we do this?” Sieghard asked quietly.

Dione looked over the railing and took in the chamber. They needed a plan of action…

“I’ll go through the torture room and get on the opposite balcony,” Dione explained. “Belinda, meet me there.”

Belinda nodded and headed back upstairs to reach the other balcony.

“Sieghard, knock one of those barrels down the stairs and get that soldier up here,” Dione said, pointing to the four barrels in the corner by the stairs. “When she’s here, dispatch her as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Sieghard nodded.

Dione went down the stairs and snuck across the torture chamber. She was out of sight of the Altmer. Sieghard watched her. When Dione and Belinda were on the balcony on the other side of the torture chamber, he pushed a barrel down the stairs and got the Altmers’ attentions. The female soldier told Rulindil she would investigate and went up the stairs. Sieghard jumped her, snapped her neck, and set her down her down. Dione and Belinda shot Rulindil with arrows. They three went downstairs and searched the chest, finding a dossier on a man named Esbern. They flipped through it, read up on this man.

“So they really are looking for that crazy old man,” Dione commented. She slipped the book into her pack and heard the door open. Sieghard pressed his back against the wall nearest to the balcony while Dione and Belinda ducked into the shadows and laid low. They looked up, seeing two Thalmor soldiers, and they had Malborn with them, hands bound behind his back. Belinda and Dione cursed silently.

"Come out!" a soldier shouted. "We have your accomplice!"

"Just go," Malborn sighed.

One soldier came down and passed Sieghard, who grabbed him and wrapped one muscular arm around his neck and slapped a hand over his mouth. He squeezed until the Altmer's neck broke. Dione and Belinda moved through the shadows and shot the remaining soldier. Belinda retrieved Malborn and Dione retrieved Etienne and made their escape…


	13. Chapter 13: A Cornered Rat

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 4th of Frostfall, 4E201

After about a week of dodging Thalmor, laying low, slaying three more dragons, and an old ruin full of brigands, Belinda, Dione, Sieghard, Lucien, Malborn, and Etienne were glad to find rest at the Sleeping Giant Inn. They arrived on Fredas, tired, worn, and covered who knew what. Delphine rented out the cellar rooms to them and baths were run. Belinda was happy to relax in a nice, lukewarm bath. The water was that perfect mix of warm and cool. She needed this, deserved it. She dunked her head underwater to sufficiently soak it, grabbed the soap and bathing sugars, and scrubbed until her skin was red. She lost some hair. Okay, a lot of hair. It had been a hectic week and she had no intention of bathing in the icy cold rivers. Winter was here, after all.

After the bath, she dried her hair. Not an easy task since her hair was really long. She brushed it, braided it, and bound it. Taking care of her hair left her exhausted, but she managed to get in a pair of trousers and a large shirt. She got under her blankets, adjusted her pillows, stretched, and got comfy. She dozed off rather quickly, quicker than she normally would. What a week…

Dione didn’t take a relaxing bath. She soaked her hair and washed it. She wrapped up her hair in a towel and then got into the large basin to wash the dirt off her skin. Suddenly, she felt a pair of large hands on her shoulders, pulling her to a bare chest. She looked up and into Brynjolf’s eyes. She gave a mischievous grin and asked, “Did you follow me?”  
“It’s been a couple months since I saw you, Lass,” Brynjolf replied, “and when I saw you at the party…”

Dione kissed him. “You had to get some?” she responded.

“Yes,” Brynjolf groaned. He grabbed and lifted her out of the basin.

“I’m wet, you oaf,” Dione snapped.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Brynjolf assured, dumping her on the bed. He climbed onto the bed, on top of her. He leaned down and kissed the Dunmer beneath him, a hand going down to her aching vagina and fingering her roughly.

Dione moaned into the kiss and bit his lip gently. She pulled, moaning out. “Fuck Bryn!” she gasped. She had forgotten how good he was at the fingering thing. “Oh, by Nocturnal!” He knew where to brush his fingers. “Fuuuck! Master thief in-fucking-deed!” she howled, back arching. That’s when Brynjolf replaced his finger with penis, making Dione cry out. She slapped her hands over her mouth, cheeks turning violet as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She hoped no one heard that. Brynjolf then grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

“I want to hear your beautiful voice, Lass,” he said softly.

“Oh, you son of a-. AHH!” Dione yelped as Brynjolf thrust into her. “Gods damn you.”

Brynjolf chuckled. “Again?” he asked.

“Damn straight, asshole,” Dione answered.

Brynjolf was happy to oblige.

\---

Riften, the Rift Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 11th of Frostfall, 4E201

Snow blanketed Skyrim from the central and northward. Half the roads were closed down, and travelling through the southern portion of Skyrim would be slippery and dangerous. But the group had to make their way to Riften where they would find Esbern. They were accompanied by Brynjolf, Etienne, and Malborn, the lattermost of whom was now fleeing the Thalmor due to his cover being blown. Riften would provide a temporary hiding place with Dione’s protection. They wore heavy cloaks and warm clothes as they trod through sleet and a slush, accompanied by a Khajiit caravan for part of the journey.

They took shelter in the ruins of Helgan on the first night. The second night they spent at a roadside shack, albeit it was cramped. Third night they made it to Ivarrstead. Belinda reached into her bag and pulled out the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. So, she journeyed up the mountain the following morning with Lucien to return it to the Greybeards. Lucien could simply tell Belinda did not relish meeting with the old hermits. In a sense, it felt like old times with Amanisa. He remembered long ago when he travelled with the ancient elf up these very steps, though they were not as worn as they were now.

“Ah, fuck!” Belinda exclaimed, having slipped on a slick, stone step. She slammed her hands on the icy step in front of her to brace herself.

“Are you okay?” Lucien asked as Belinda lifted her hands. He already smelt the blood from a cut on the bottom of her right palm. It was a thin, clean cut that would leave a barely noticeable scar that crossed one of the natural lines on her palm and barely connected with another. Once healed, it would likely a natural part of her palm.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Belinda answered.

“Hold still a moment,” Lucien ordered.

“I know how to clean and bandage a wound,” Belinda pointed out. “Besides, it’s not even my dominant hand.”

“I know it’s not,” Lucien sighed. He used his magic to levitate a bottle of healing draught from one of his packs and passed it to Belinda. She uncorked it and poured the red liquid on her wound. She felt a tingling that meant the infection was being cleaned out. Next, Lucien passed her a swatch of linin that had been steeped in Athelas extract. It was calming and soothing as Belinda bandaged her hand.

“Thank you,” she said to the ancient Lynx. “What is the medicine you used?”

“Athelas,” Lucien answered. “It’s far more effective and potent than some of the herbs here on Nirn. Very few back home known how to use it anymore. I carry a few of Amanisa’s old recipe books that tells me how to properly grow, care for, and use Athelas.”

Belinda nodded. She had heard about Athelas from Karr in her youth. In fact, if she remembered correctly, he raised some in his treehouse when she was younger and he would use some of it to tend to her scrapes.

“Karr used to have Athelas around,” she told Lucien.

“I’m not surprised,” the Lynx responded as they continued up the mountain. “Amanisa taught him how to tend to it also. Thinking on it, Nathiel also knows how to care for Athelas.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Belinda asked, rolling her eyes.

“She always was too trusting,” Lucien answered.

“How ironic considering how cynical I can be,” Belinda muttered.

The rest of the journey was uneventful and they didn’t speak a whole lot after that. Not much point to it. It was well into the night before they arrived at the monastery. Upon entering, they went to the guest chamber to rest. The next morning, they awoke and went to find Arngeir. They returned the horn and Belinda was officially dubbed Dragonborn. Not that she or Lucien required validation. She was Dragonborn either way. Body of a mortal, blood and soul of a dragon. Which was admittedly odd in hindsight considering that her soul belonged to a 9,000-year-old Planeswalking Elf, but then that would have made her Dragonborn also!

“Lucien, who were Amanisa’s parents?” Belinda asked as they descended the mountain.

“Her mother was a noblewoman from Edhellond,” Lucien answered. “Not a very pleasant woman from Amanisa’s memories of her. She never treated Amanisa fairly after her father disappeared.”

“Amanisa’s father disappeared?” Belinda questioned.

“Went east and never came back,” Lucien replied.

“East? In the book written by the wizard Tolkien, most of the elves went west,” Belinda muttered.

“All that we ever knew of her father is that he was odd; that’s where she got it from.”

It took them a two days to reach the others. By then, they were half-way between Ivarrstead and Riften. Belinda had left a note telling the others not to wait for her and to keep going. They proved to be quite fast. The journey continued, people occasionally speaking to one another as they travelled.

“Wish we had a damn good horse to make travelling easier,” Dione pointed out as they walked toward Riften. It was but an hour away now.

“Bah; it would only slow us down,” Sieghard grumbled. “Seriously, with how often you stop to grab herbs, it’s amazing the kind of time we’re making.”

Belinda hadn’t really noticed it, but Dione had been bouncing back and forth across the road and occasionally into the wilderness to collect alchemical ingredients. She had lavender, snowberries, canis root, various mushrooms, and some wildflowers. Now that she had heard Sieghard say it, it became more apparent. Brynjolf smiled and chuckled. He had actually noticed it. Now that Malborn also noticed it, he looked more annoyed. Whether that was because he had taken the Green Pact or because he was thinking Dione wasn’t taking this as seriously as he thought she should, one could only guess.

“Some of it’s for my mother,” Dione defended. “Okay, most of it. She’s teaching me alchemy. I’m not as good. I only have a very basic skill and understanding of it.”

“This from someone who went to Winterhold College,” Sieghard grumbled.

“My focus of study was Destruction and Enchanting,” Dione pointed out. “A little Conjuration on the side for good measure, and some Illusion and Alterations to accent my skills as a thief.”

“Been a while since I studied at Winterhold,” Lucien commented. “I’ll want to go again some time.”

They arrived at Riften, entering the city with ease. Much of the city sat on the water, so a lot of it was made of wood. Other buildings were made of stone. There was a lot of trade going on, especially meats and fish with the occasional produce stand. Someone sold trinkets and odds and ends out of Morrowind while a woman sold weapons and armor off the bodies of bandits she killed and an Argonian ran quite the jewelry stand. There were people and guards everywhere. Being so close to the borders of Morrowind and Cyrodiil and settle on a lake, there was a lot to trade in the City of Corruption. On a corner stood a Dunmer woman handing out parchment and speaking praise of the Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood, Mara. The city had grown a lot in beauty and wealthy since Dione’s rise to Guildmaster and becoming Thane of the Rift. The canals of the lower half the city were being cleaned out more, children splashed around, and people were going down to do their laundry and gossip again. The city was also a little brighter. It just went to show what an honorable thief leading the Thieves Guild could do for a city.

“Well, Riften isn’t as much as rat’s nest as it used to be,” Sieghard commented.

“I’m so glad you think so,” Dione responded, looking around. “Took me months to get this city back into shape.”

“That it did,” Brynjolf chuckled. “She ran all over the place, getting people back into the temple, improving peoples’ lives, the like. As far as thieves go, the lass is honorable, good, and loyal. Good sense of justice as well.”

“That is just as Chaotic/Neutral-Good as you can get,” Belinda muttered.

“Pardon?” Dione asked.

“Just something from a game I played back home,” Belinda answered, and then waved goodbye to Malborn as he entered the inn.

Meanwhile, Lucien and Sieghard noticed they were being followed. Again. Lucien looked behind him, seeing a female Khajiit. She seemed out of place, despite the fact there were a few other Khajiit around. The Khajiit population in Skyrim was low, but that was mostly because, despite their fur, they disliked the colder region and the colder winters. But at least Riften was somewhat pleasant during the winters. Colder like the rest of Skyrim, but nicer. So why did this particular Khajiit seem so out of place among the few other Khajiit?  
“I think we should watch our backs,” Lucien told the others softly. They looked to him and subtly gestured to the Khajiit with his tail. They looked to the Khajiit, who hissed and went about some…Other business. “As I said, we watch our backs. I suspect Madam Ambassador knows we came here and plan to interfere in her business.”

“I suspect you may be right,” Belinda agreed. “We must hurry to find Esbern and get him out of Riften and fast.”

They descended into the Ratways. The Ratways had seen some improvements also. Leaks were fixed, new iron sconces lined the walls, and there were fewer rats scuttling about. However, there were rats nonetheless and Lucien’s paws itched to hunt and kill them. He ended up pouncing one that scuttled over Belinda’s foot, making her scream. Lucien grabbed the filthy rat in his jaws and clamped down, crushing it. He dropped it and looked at the others, who stared at him in shock and disbelief.

“Did you all forget I’m a cat?” he asked.

“No, you’ve just always been so dignified that you just suddenly looked like a bloody little savage,” Belinda answered.

“Well…HISS!” Lucien looked away, nose in the air and eyes closed in mock offense.

“And now you look like an arrogant little douche,” Belinda laughed.

“What’s a douche?” Sieghard asked.

“It really has two meanings these days on my…” She looked to Brynjolf, who had moved on ahead. “World. The true meaning…Well, you don’t want to know,” Belinda answered. “The other meaning is basically that, but intended to be offensive.” She looked down. “I’m bad at explaining things; let’s move on.”

They caught up to Brynjolf, who led them to the Ragged Flagon. It was well lit and well furnished with shops and even a smithy. The Flagon itself was busy with thieves, spies, and dishonest merchants. Dione raised a brow, seeing a couple new waitresses strutting around in rather revealing attire. Well, whatever keeps the money flowing in, she supposed. And there was Gissur, waiting for her as she had demanded.

“Brynjolf, get a stick and then help Vex, Delvin, Tonilia, Vekel, and Dirge clear the dock,” Dione ordered.

“What’s wrong?” Brynjolf asked.

“Gissur is a damned traitor and the reason Etienne was captured and tortured by the Thalmor,” Dione shouted, wanting everyone to hear her.

Everyone turned to Gissur, who swallowed hard in fear while Brynjolf looked to Dione, seeing the seething rage in her eyes. She was going to beat Gissur’s ass in front of everyone and didn’t give a damn who saw. While Gissur was an actual traitor, Dione would sink to Mercer Fray’s level of viciousness. And that was not who she was. So, Brynjolf calmly grabbed Dione’s arms and pulled her tightly into an embraced while people started shouting at Gissur, cursing him, and calling him out. Dione looked to Brynjolf, confused.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You almost sounded like Mercer,” he answered, which caused the color to drain from the Dunmer’s face.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Dione growled.

“Then please don’t lose yourself,” Brynjolf whispered to her. “I love you too much to let you sink down to that bastard’s level, and your mother would agree with me.”

Dione thought about what Brynjolf just said, but her mind kept going to one line of dialogue: “I love you…” The rest did not matter; just that. She looked down. “I love you too,” she said softly as Brynjolf rested his chin on top of her head. “…Ya damn tree.”

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled.

“Awww!” Belinda and Lucien sighed.

“Oh, shut up!” Dione barked.

“We should hurry to Esbern,” Sieghard reminded them.

“They’re right lass,” Brynjolf agreed. “I’ll get Karliah just in case.” He went to the cistern while the others followed Dione into the Ratways.

And there were Thalmor everywhere.

“Looks like we’ll have to fight our way through,” Sieghard snarled, eyes flashing yellow. He drew Wuuthrad, which he had earlier retrieved from Delphine. He had also changed back into his wolf armor before they left Riverwood.

“Yeah, it does,” Belinda sighed, drawing her sword. “Think we’re out-numbered?”

“Just a smidge,” Lucien answered, blue eyes glowing. “A few illusions and I think I’ll have evened the odds a bit.

“Brynjolf is fetching my mom, but I think we can handle ourselves a bit,” Dione pointed out, drawing her bow and an arrow.

“Make every arrow count then,” Belinda told her.

“I always do,” Dione assured.

A few Thalmor turned toward them, three wielding swords and shields in Thalmor armor, the last in robes and carrying a staff with a dragon head. It was made of silver with amethysts for eyes. Belinda felt drawn to it. The soldiers came at them while the Thalmor mage charged her staff with magic unlike that normally found on Nirn.

“Everyone! That staff is not of this plane!” Lucien informed them telepathically. “That’s one of Amanisa’s! She created it herself with the aid of a friend from long ago! It belongs to Belinda!”

Dione nodded to Lucien and found herself a better position to fire. Belinda parried a blow from the first soldier, only to be smacked back by his shield. She grunted, stumbling back. The soldier came at her again, this time with a downward strike. In his eyes, Belinda was right there, but Lucien roared, eyes glowing and the Thalmor cut through an illusion. He blinked, confused, until Belinda kicked him hard in the side. The Thalmor stumbled to the side and right into the radius of the spell from the staff. The light burned him, making him scream in pain. Dione spotted enemy archers on the other side of the chamber and focused on sniping them. For all their supposed superiority, they were nothing compared to her, and she was still nowhere near as good as her mother. One archer almost got her, his arrow lightly grazing her arm. She tensed in pain, but did not let said pain show on her face. She was focused and retaliated on the one who shot her with an arrow between the eyes. That Thalmor bastard was dead. She shot another in the neck as he was notching an arrow to his bowstring. He must have been new, for he was clumsy and slow and that was his mistake.

Sieghard was taking on two at once, using the shaft of the battle axe for defense. He smacked the jaw of one Thalmor, certain the blow broke the elf’s jaw. Blood dripped from the elf’s mouth and he spat out a few teeth, mouth hanging open awkwardly. He flailed. Sieghard side-stepped and swung Wuuthrad. The blade cut the armor and deep into flesh. Blood went flying, hitting Belinda’s face. She made a sound of disgust while Lucien bounded past her and leapt onto the remaining warrior and biting his neck. The Thalmor mage tried casting a lightning spell, but hit the soldier Lucien was latched onto. Sieghard finished off his opponent and turned to the mage. Lucien brought his foe to his hands and knees and Sieghard slew the soldier by chopping off his head. The group then turned to the mage.

“Where did you get that staff?” Lucien demanded with a snarl, blood dripping from his muzzle. His tail lashed angrily and he readied himself to pounce.

“It was given to me by a man,” the Thalmor answered. “Not that it matters. You’ll be dead before too long.” She raised the staff.

“Brace yourselves!” Lucien warned, and then the Thalmor slammed the staff back down.

The ground shook violently, cracking in some places. The cracks glowed like a phoenix’s feather, giving off scorching heat and steam. Dione screamed as she shielded herself from the heat. Lucien jumped out of the way when a piece of the ceiling fell. Sieghard braced himself against a wall. Belinda stumbled, but regained her stance and Shouted: “Zun-HAAL-VIIK!” The staff went flying from the mage’s hand and across the chamber. She tried to go fetch it, and Belinda was on her heels, summoning a creature from across the eternities. She reached into the green mana of the woods surrounding Riften, and summoned a large wolf. The wolf barked and snarled, its back covered in thorns.

That’s a new one, Belinda thought.

The wolf caught up to the Thalmor mage quickly and lunged, its long, narrow muzzle biting into her neck and slamming her against the ground. It was an instant kill. Before the wolf feasted on the corpse, Belinda dismissed it back to its plane. The others caught up, though Lucien went on ahead to check on the staff. They then caught up to him as he was examining the staff. He raised his and turned to them.

“The staff is undamaged,” he informed them. “The finest materials went into making it after all. Please, Belinda, take it. It is your birthright after all.” Eyes glowing, he levitated the staff into Belinda’s hands. It felt right in her hold, and she felt the power it contained. This staff was, indeed, meant to be hers.

“Dione!” cried a soft voice. The group turned to see Brynjolf arriving with a Dunmeri woman who had Dione’s lilac eyes.

“Mother,” Dione sighed, embracing the older Dunmer.

The Dunmer stepped back and checked her daughter for injuries. She found a few burns from the steam on her lower arms and the scratch on her upper arm. “Sit,” she ordered. Dione did not argue while her mother, Karliah Indoril, knelt and took out her first aid kit to tend to her daughter’s injuries. Now that Dione was more aware of her injures, she hissed and groaned in pain as Karliah treated them.

“What was that earthquake?” Brynjolf asked. “It wasn’t natural.”

“Magic that didn’t belong in the hands of the Thalmor,” Belinda answered. She was tying straps to the staff so she could carry it easier over the shoulder and then “draw” it with ease. It was right in her right hand, sword in her left. Lucien assured her that’s how Amanisa was. They moved on once Dione’s injuries were attended to and delved deeper into the Ratway. And at the end was a heavy door with chains and such with Thalmor trying to break it down.

“Hey assholes!” Belinda shouted once Dione and Karliah had their bows ready and fixed on the Thalmor. The two High Elves turned to the group. “YOU. SUCK!” A moment, the two were dead. Karliah glared at Belinda. “I’m sorry, but I’ve always wanted to shout that at someone.” They went to the partially broken door, but it fell when Belinda knocked. “I didn’t do it.”

“G-go away!” shouted a weathered old voice.

“Esbern, relax, you’re safe,” Brynjolf assured.

“How do you know?” Esbern asked.

“Delphine said to ask you where were on the 30th of Frostfall,” Belinda answered.

“Delphine…? Oh yes, I remember that day,” Esbern muttered, more to himself than the others. He looked to the group. “She’s alive then?” he asked.

“Yeah, and hiding out in Riverwood,” Belinda answered. “We’re here to take you to her, especially since we all need your help. The dragons have returned and-.”

“I know all about the dragons and their return,” Esbern told her. “I’ve been saying it for years, but no one believed me. Alduin has returned, heralding the end times, just as prophesized. The gods have finally grown tired of us mere mortals and our time has come at last.”

“Wait, like you mean the literal end of the world?” Dione asked.

“Yes!” Esbern replied. “You see but you don’t understand!”

“What I understand is that she’s the Dragonborn,” Dione pointed out, jabbing her thumb in Belinda’s direction.

Esbern looked at Belinda in disbelief.

“What?” Belinda snapped.

“If that’s true…Give me a moment!” Esbern started packing and getting things together. He started mumbling to himself. “Can’t leave clues for the Thalmor…”

“When Delphine warned he was crazy and paranoid, she meant it,” Lucien said to Belinda mentally.


	14. Chapter 14: Memories

Dawnstar, the Pale Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 12th of Frostfall, 4E201

The Dark Brotherhood had been destroyed. Sieghard had seen to that, as far as Nathiel knew. But the Sanctuaries still stood. The one out by Dawnstar was in shambles and infested with the souls of the former inhabitants and particularly large troll. Then there was the fool and the Night Mother herself. And the fool was far from foolish. There were traps. If Nathiel planned to use this location to his advantage, then he was going to need help. She wasn’t easy to find. Planeswalkers seldom were. But when he found her, she was reluctant to help. So he paid her in gold and silver ingots, gems, and jewels.

Her dark eyes had widened and she grinned. She was an assassin, like him, but the living was not exactly her expertise. She was unique. Of course, all Planeswalkers are. She could become one with the spirit world and had weapons that, while physical, could harm spirits. That’s why he needed her. To get rid of the pesky undead assassins. She looked at Nathiel and asked, “This all up-front or is it half-now, half-finish the job?” Nathiel grinned evilly.

“Greedy? I like that. This is half-now,” he replied. “The spirits you’re going up against were assassins in life. Their spirits now haunt their home. Well, more like guard it. Tell me, have you ever been to Nirn?”

“A few times,” the young woman answered.

“Well, Kaya, have you heard of the Dark Brotherhood?”

The young woman, Kaya, shook her head.

“They’re an order of assassins…Well, were,” Nathiel pointed out. “What remained of them were wiped out this past year. But a few of their sanctuaries still exist. There’s one in Dawnstar on Nirn that I plan on making use of. The problem is the ghosts of dead assassins who linger there guarding. I need someone with your expertise to help deal with them. Other things in there include traps, a large troll, and a fool.”

“A fool?” Kaya asked, raising her unpierced brow.

“A lunatic,” Nathiel answered. “The man is completely deranged and out of his mind. He’s not the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. If I am correct in my readings, he’s the Keeper, an attendant for the Night Mother’s corpse, meant to protect her until a suitable Listener comes. He’s undoubtedly the one who set the traps. Pathetic ones at best.” He wasn’t lying or sugarcoating anything for this young Planeswalker. “So, are you in?” he asked.

Kaya looked like she was considering it. “With the pay you’re offering…” she answered after a moment. “…Deal.”

They shook hands on it and she followed him to Nirn. They arrived…On a sheet of ice just north of Dawnstar. The problem was, they were at least a mile north of the shoreline. Kaya let out a yell, slipping onto her arse. She tried to remain still while Nathiel slipped onto his hands and knees. Cold water sloshed onto the ice, freezing his fingers. He looked to the shore.

“At least we landed close to our destination,” he huffed irritably. “Now we have to get there without dying.”

“Okay, got any bright ideas?” Kaya asked.

“We summon something with wings to pull or carry us to shore,” Nathiel answered. “I have a few creatures that will do.”

“Then by all means, summon them,” Kaya suggested.

“It’s a far reach to the nearest source of useable mana,” Nathiel pointed out. “And I fear I left my converter at the nearby inn.”

Kaya glowered at him. “Of course it is! Now we’ll have to Planeswalk out and back in at a different point!”

Nathiel groaned. Planeswalking was never easy. He’s ‘walked into all kinds of situations: Walls, floors, piles of dung. One time, he actually Planeswalked right into a tree and became stuck there. It took him months to work himself out of the tree. When he did, he found he was mortal. And weaker. And couldn’t do have the things he used to. Something had changed in the Multiverse. After hitting up his old contacts, he found half of them were dead, vanished, or were no longer Planeswalkers. They told him what had happened, why he was weaker. And he cursed Amanisa for being right. Like always. She had an eye for irritating details like this.

He subconsciously had reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple small, glass bottles with short necks. He looked at them. Potions to stave off the cold for at least two hours. Plenty of time to swim to shore, run to Dawnstar, and warm up at the inn before the effects wore off and they died. He turned to Kaya and handed a bottle to her. She gave him a look, brow raised, as she held the bottle.

“It’s a potion meant to keep us warm,” he informed her. “It will only last two hours, so we’ll have to be fast between here and the inn.” He uncorked his.

She did the same and they stood. They down it in all in a single gulp and dove into the Sea of Ghosts. They swam hard and fast, feeling pressure. The water became shallow half a mile to shore and they trudged to shore. One there, they were panting and with an hour remaining before the potion wore off. Nathiel took a matte green glass bottle out and took a swig from it. He stopped panting and handed the bottle to Kaya. “Stamina potion,” he informed her. She nodded and finished it off. Then they ran all the way to the inn. Once safely inside, he rented her a room and they each went to their own rooms.

The next day, after they and their clothes were dry, they stepped out into a snowstorm and had to trek their way through wind and ice to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary that Nathiel wished to utilize. At the door, a voice asked, “What is life’s greatest illusion?”

Kaya’s eyes widened.

“Innocence, my brother,” Nathiel answered.

“Welcome…Home…” the voice responded, and the door opened.

\---

Riverwood, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 17th of Frostfall, 4E201

The trip back was as long and cold and slow. And Belinda’s elbows started getting really dry. She applied lotion to them daily. Karliah had been kind enough to provide some before Belinda, Sieghard, Dione, Lucien, and Esbern left Riften. After staying in town for a lovely dinner and having some delicious, clean, smoked salmon. And Lucien was more than a happy, purring cat. He lay on his back in the wagon, tail swishing as he slept and dreamt of the smoked salmon, sprinkled with a little bit of catnip and a bowl of good red wine. He started purring, and Belinda rubbed his tummy. Lucien batted at the air, looking utterly undignified.

“Is he still drunk?” Dione asked, grinning in amusement.

“Oh, shove off,” Lucien murmured. “Let me be a cat.”

“Really? Because you look more like a dog,” Sieghard pointed out.

“I grew up around a lot of different animals,” Lucien defended. “Amanisa’s home was full of them. Stray cats, beaten dogs, birds with broken wings, bears, snakes, rabbits, turtles. She had purchased a nice home in Bree-Land with a big front yard full of lavender and roses with a garden that always seemed to have some exotic fruit. We had lake for a backyard, and she made sure to fill it with water lilies and reeds for our more aquatic guests and residents. Inside, there were habitats for others and books. So. Many. Books. It was enough to make your head spin. It was always home. Sometimes, we hosted a few students or her daughter. Eventually, she took a husband again and they had four children. I sometimes wonder what became of them. They were half-elf and half-Dunedain. I have no doubt they were quite long lived. Amanisa and I did not remain to witness their final fates. Instead, we sought the wonders of the Multiverse. All I know is she sent them to the far corners of Middle Earth to watch.”

“For what?” Sieghard asked.

“The enemy,” Lucien answered plainly.

“Is it an enemy we have to worry about?” Dione asked.

“No. It is Planesbound and Amanisa ensured I would remain even if I didn’t to answer the call no matter where I was,” Lucien replied. He sighed. “She was always the cautious one.” He was silent a moment. “Okay, enough of the tummy rub. I’m feeling tired.”

Belinda listened and Lucien curled up into a ball, now ignoring the world.

“That was very fascinating,” Esbern commented. “I knew other worlds existed, but to hear about it from actual Planeswalkers…”

“I still find it confusing,” Sieghard pointed out.

“Well, not all Planesbound can comprehend secrets like these,” Esbern said. “Remember: You’ve been allowed to know great secrets and you’re managing to stay sane about it. It’s an honor!”

“Ha! I’m already insane, and the moons call to me. I’ll see you all tomorrow or the day after…”

Sieghard jumped out the back of the wagon and ran off. He had left Wuuthrad behind.

“What just happened?” Esbern asked.

“Just a Companions thing,” Dione answered.

They arrived in Riverwood two days later. Sieghard met up with them there, having arrived a few hours before them and noon. He looked ragged and tired, yet pleased with himself. He had clearly had a good hunt. The others got off the wagon, waking Lucien and aiding Esbern down. They then paid the driver and he continued to Whiterun. Belinda put Lucien’s bags on his back and helped him with his blue, velvet cloak, even easing his ears through the slits on the head. They went inside, seeing Delphine nervously waiting, leaning on the bar and chewing on her right thumb nail. She looked up from her ruined nails to the door. The inn was empty save her and Orgnar, and her eyes filled with tears when she saw Esbern walk inside and past the group.

The two embraced, glad to see each, and alive at that. Memories of day long past came to the forefront, forcing them to cry a bit. Twenty-five years had passed since they parted.

“It’s been too long, Delphine,” Esbern said.

“It has,” Delphine agreed, voice cracking. “Just too long…” They pulled away and she wiped her eyes. “Well, you’re here now and safe, and that’s what matters most.”

“Is there someplace private we can talk?” Esbern asked.

“Yes; this way,” Delphine answered. She led Esbern and the others to her secret room behind the wardrobe. Belinda made sure to shut it behind them. Sieghard went and sat down, finally looking exhausted. Esbern and Delphine stood on opposite sides of the table, Belinda beside her, and Dione and Lucien were at one of the table.

“Now, I assume you know about…” Delphine began.

Esbern looked to Belinda. “I do, yes,” he answered. “Told me all about it when we left Riften. A bit of a messy departure due to that Khajiit…”  
The Kahjiit that Lucien claimed was following them had ambushed the group on their way out of the Ratways. She came at Belinda with a dagger of High Elven make. She barely cut through Belinda’s armor, so the Dragonborn got off lucky. Then Belinda used her fire Shout to kill the Kahjiit. The Khajiit’s fur and clothes burned, and she screamed as she rolled around on the floor to put out the flames. Dione drew her boot knife and silenced her, stabbing the head fast. The fur kept burning, giving off a rancid odor that almost made the group move fast. However, Belinda stopped and reached into the surviving satchel. There was a note with orders from an “E,” though everyone knew it was Elenwen. Brynjolf and Karliah had seen them off after dinner that night at Dione’s house and went off to dispose of the body.

“I still can’t get the smell out of my nose,” Lucien groaned.

“Yucky,” Belinda agreed.

“Well, on to more important matters,” Esbern began. He set his bag on the table and ruffled through it. “Where is it? I know I packed it…”

“Esbern, what…?” Delphine began to ask.

“Ah-ha! Here it is!” Esbern exclaimed, pulling out a rather large book with the crest of the Blades on the cover. He opened it and unfolded a map of Skyrim with the Reach Hold outlined. In the middle of the hold was, once again, the Blades’ crest. “Sky Haven Temple, the home of Alduin’s Wall! Lost to time, but I found it!” He looked pleased with himself, though the others looked between one another, confused.

“What’s Alduin’s Wall?” Delphine asked.

Esbern looked around at everyone. “You mean, you haven’t heard of Alduin’s Wall?” He looked around at the group again. “Any of you?”

“I have,” Lucien responded. “I was there when it was made.”

“Then you know its importance,” Esbern said.

“Yes; a second era Akaviri relief sculpture that tells the tale of how Alduin was defeated and how he may be defeated again,” Lucien explained.

“That’s…Brilliant,” Delphine exclaimed. She looked at the map. “I know this area of the Reach. The problem we’ll be facing is a lot of Foresworn.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Sieghard groaned.

“I hate Foresworn,” Dione grumbled.

“A break would be so nice,” Belinda sighed.

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 18th of Frostfall, 4E201

Aela the Huntress embraced Sieghard the second he walked through the doors of Jorrvaskr. He hugged back, holding her close and smelling her hair. It smelt of pine and the hunt. She was not usually the affectionate one. Neither was Sieghard. But sometimes, you just needed the warmth of someone you love. It had been almost a month since they had seen each other. Sieghard had either not stayed in Whiterun long enough to see her or she had been gone when he was there. Well, he and the group were going to rest a few days before heading out into the Reach and Sieghard chose to see his wife. Dione was resting at the inn and Belinda and Lucien were staying in Jorrvaskr until her house was finished. Which would hopefully be tomorrow, but she was wise enough not to hold her breath.

“I missed you,” Aela groaned.

“Likewise, love,” Sieghard rumbled.

Aela pulled away and looked at Belinda. “And whose this?” she asked.

“The Dragonborn,” Sieghard answered. “I’ve invited her to stay a couple nights until either her house is finished or we leave for the Reach. Whichever comes first.” He saw the look on Aela’s face. Concern. “She knows all about it. Figured it out herself.”

“Lovely,” Aela mumbled, not liking the fact an outsider knows the Companions’s secrets.

“Just be nice to her,” Sieghard sighed. “This Dragonborn business she’s involved in has been keeping her away from home and she’s kind of missing her family. Let’s treat her as such.”

Aela sighed and nodded. “And the roads into the other provinces are practically impassable right now, so she’s stuck here in Skyrim.”

“Yeah,” Sieghard lied. Let’s go with that, he thought. “Anyway, to make up for some lost time, how about we have some fun tonight?” he asked.

Aela raised a brow, grinning. “Are you asking for rough, wild sex under the moonlight?”

Sieghard chuckled. “Absolutely.” He kissed Aela’s lips softly before turning to the twins, Vilkas and Farkas. “Hey, Vilkas!” he called.

“What?” Vilkas demanded. He was the smaller of the twins, with shorter hair too.

“Hey, it’s the short kid who helped me,” Farkas commented.

“Good to see you up and about,” Belinda replied. Then she realized that Farkas had called her a short kid. “OI!” she snapped, feigning offense. “I’m five feet and six inches! That’s not short!”

Farkas laughed.

Vilkas took a good look at Belinda. She was beautiful with her long, black hair and dazzling violet eyes. She was certainly no older than 18 and couldn’t be younger than 16. Seventeen perhaps? Definitely old enough to drink and wed in Skyrim and still pretty enough. But what about skill and intellect?

“Would you please take Miss Scale here to Aela’s old room?” Sieghard asked.

“Sure; should I ask Tilma to fetch fresh linens while I’m at it?” Vilkas responded.

“I’m already heading to the linens closet,” Tilma pointed out, heading downstairs.

“Never mind then,” Vilkas mumbled. He looked to Belinda. “Follow me.” He led her downstairs to the Companions’ living quarters. Across the hall from where they entered were the barracks where the lesser members of the Companions slept. Down the hall was where the Circle resided. If Belinda remembered correctly, the last time she was here, she took a right and then a left to Farkas’s room. This time Vilkas led her left and then left again to what was Aela’s old room.

Since marrying Sieghard, Aela had moved into the Harbinger’s Quarters with him. So the room was pretty bare save for the bedframe and mattress, a rug, and a nightstand. That was pretty much it and Belinda didn’t need much else except for linens. Tilma brought those and Belinda thanked her and took the linens, pillow, and fur blanket.

“I’ll be back with a lantern and candles for you, dear,” Tilma said, hurrying off.

“Again, thank you,” Belinda replied. She made the bed herself. “These linens are soft,” she commented to no one in particular.

“Tilma says she washes them right,” Vilkas pointed out. He didn’t know why, but he really wanted to talk to her.

“I’ll say.” Belinda bent over knee on the bed to tuck the fitted sheet.

Vilkas stared at her backside and felt his mouth water.

Belinda then put on the blanket and the fur blanket before fluffing the two pillows. She yawned and stretched. “I think I’ll take a quick nap before anything else.”

“I’ll, uh, leave you to that,” Vilkas muttered, taking his leave hurriedly. He went down the hall and to the right into his room. There, he grabbed a pillow and groaned into it. Oh gods, what was wrong with him?! He was in his 30’s and that girl was a mere child, half his age! He heard a knock on the door and turned to his larger twin Farkas. “What?” he snapped.

“You’re blushing,” Farkas teased.

“Oh, bite me,” Vilkas snapped.

“That short-stuff got you?” Farkas asked, and got a pillow to the face.

“I said shut up, ice brain!” Vilkas plopped into a chair. “Gods, she’s a kid.”

“Cradle robber,” Farkas teased.

“Knock it off before I actually hit you.”

“Why? It’s funny!” Aela said. “We’ve never actually seen you all flustered and awkward before. It’s quite a sight to see.”

“Fuck off, both of you,” Vilkas growled.

\---

The Dawnstar Sanctuary, the Pale  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 18th of Frostfall, 4E201

Nathiel wasn’t sure why he let the fool live.

His name was Cicero, a real bouncing nutter. Nathiel had stolen glances into the man’s journals and pitied him. He knew what it was like to not be favored. However, as soon as he went up to the Night Mother’s corpse in what was once a torture chamber, she spoke to him, told him what to tell Cicero. The little Cyrodiilic in jester’s attire had been displeased that she spoke to him, but was soon dancing with joy that the Dark Brotherhood had a new Listener and would survive. Then the fool went on and on about rebuilding, recruiting, and nonsense. Nathiel just needed a base of operations, a safe place to grow his plants and store his potions, salves, and poisons; and access to the nearby alchemy shop. He hadn’t intended to become Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. But apparently, it happened.

Perhaps I can make use of the fool and his Night Mother, Nathiel thought, watching Cicero attend to the Night Mother’s corpse. An order of assassins at my command and disposal…I think I like the idea. It would give him a means to find someone that could be useful, help him dispose of Amanisa. No, that wasn’t her name this time. Belinda. It had taken him some time, but he made the connection. The little brown-haired girl he’d nearly killed a decade ago was this Belinda. But she still had Amanisa’s soul. So close enough. He went up to some roses he planted. Between his magic and his devotion, he could see they were thriving even in a dark and cold environment.

They were all the colors of dawn, cultivated by Amanisa. The cores were a bright red-orange with yellow edges, surrounded by petals of vibrant pinks, soft blues, and dark violets. He remembered the first day he had seen them. They climbed the spires of Amanisa’s Crystal Palace and how they smelt so wonderful. It was always the first thing he smelt in the morning and last thing he smelt before sleep took him at night. And the dew that came off them was sweet and had magical properties that made him go out of his way to capture a little every morning. Now he raised his own. Along with other plants. Some pleasant, others dangerous. But none more so of both than Athelas. When used right, and there are so few who know how, Athelas made a terrible poison…


	15. Chapter 15: Sky Haven Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big battle scene and Belinda comments on the hand-cutting thing in blood magic.

Sky Haven Temple, the Reach Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 25rd of Frostfall, 4E201

The journey to Sky Haven Temple was long and hard, given the rockiness of the Reach Hold combined with snow and insane Forsworn running around with their weapons of stone, bone, and wood. The wagon they hired to carry them to the crossroads north of Rorikstead busted a wheel about an hour north and Sieghard had to help fix it. Then they got ambushed by bandits and caused the horse to break loose. The wagon went flying downhill, with the driver screaming in his seat, until it crashed into a few boulders. After the bandits were fought off, the party went to collect what they could from the smashed wagon. The driver was dead…So they got their money back. Plus a little extra, a few silver rings, and a gem, which Belinda horded. She loved gems. She briefly wondered if it was a Dragon-blooded thing (which would be racist), an Amanisa thing (which Lucien admitted Amanisa did love gems), or both. Definitely both. Of course, Sieghard finally observed that Belinda was collecting gems. She was putting them in a little purple pouch that was beginning to bulge.

They turned west toward Markarth, met by a snowstorm that seemingly came from nowhere. They took shelter in a Forsworn-infested cave that they cleared out. When the storm passed, they continued to Karthspire, which hid the final destination: Sky Haven Temple. Once there, they were greeted by more Forsworn and a Hagraven. It was quite the battle. The Hagraven and her Forsworn witches summoning spider-like Daedra and ice atronachs. Esbern brought forth a storm atronach and Dione summoned two flame atronachs. Belinda reached into the mountains themselves and summoned a pack of fierce wolves. She commanded them to attack before drawing her sword and staff. She could only hope she could dual wield this together, and charged into battle. Dione and Delphine went to vantage points where they could shoot the Forsworn while Esbern hid and only attacked with magic when an enemy came too close. Sieghard battled valiantly, swinging Wuuthrad with precision. Lucien kept the enemy confused and on their toes with his illusions.  
Three Forsworn surrounded Belinda early on, coming at her with their cruel, spiked weapons. She uttered a spell she had read from one of Lucien’s books and slammed the bottom of her staff against the ground. The wooden deck they were on splintered, one Forsworn’s leg going to a board. Belinda spun and cleaved his head off. The other two were recovering quickly. One was attacked by a wolf, who ravaged the now screaming Forsworn. This allowed Belinda to focus on the remaining one. They charged each other, blades clashing hard. The Forsworn was pushing Belinda down, making the weakened wood beneath her feet crack. One hand gripping the hilt, she braced her arm against the flat of the blade. She pushed back and shoved the Forsworn off her. The Forsworn stumbled back before charging again, coming in with a two-handed piercing blow. An easy dodge with Belinda feigning right, before jumping left. With the Forsworn’s back exposed, Belinda spun in a half circle and pierced through. Her blade came out just below the Forsworn’s chest.

Sieghard was slow-moving, so he was sustaining injuries as he was swarmed. But at his howl, a few of the wolves came to his aid, jumping Forsworn and taking them down. Sieghard swung wide, cutting through Forsworn weapons. The ancient, Nordic steel was far stronger and even more superior to the weapons of the Forsworn. It shattered them like the sticks and stones they were. A few Forsworn were shocked and terrified by Wuuthrad, backing up in fear. But then Lucien’s phantasms attacked. They were like illusions, only more solid and more capable of actually doing damage. And they were plentiful in number and could easily heal. Like the wolves, the phantasms viciously tore into their enemy. A Forsworn leapt at Sieghard, shrieking like a madman, crude sword in hand. Big mistake. Lucien leapt at the Forsworn and bite into his neck, breaking it. The Forsworn’s own momentum was replaced by the lynx’s and they landed away from Sieghard, who went to fight others.

A few Forsworn turned to Lucien, attacking. Lucien gave his feline smirk, eyes glowing turquoise and spawned three illusions of himself, disappearing behind a spell of invisibility. Once the illusions were dispelled by physical attacks, the three Forsworn looked to each other in confusion. Then Lucien struck, still under his invisibility spell. He clawed the one to the left, making him attack the one in the middle. They fought amidst each other until one was left and Lucien appeared, leaping at her and crushing her throat between his teeth. Her eyes were wide in horror.

“Thirteen!” Dione cheered, shooting down another Forsworn.

Delphine was not a good archer. She’d much rather use her trusty katana. “How do you even?” she demanded.

Dione opened her mouth to respond, but a roar echoed throughout region. She gasped, looking up to see Alduin flying overhead. The whole battle paused to see him. The Forsworn had clearly seen him already, and now they all saw another dragon, behind him. They one had a spiky body of frosty white and dark blues, eyes a cold, icy blue. It swooped down, and Shouted a breath of ice. Dione and Delphine ducked, a sheet of frost blasting them and a few Forsworn. The two women shivered and brushed themselves off. The dragon turned around and came at them, wings spread wide and claws outstretched to capture. Dione and Delphine jumped down from the vantage point, the Dragon missing them.

Belinda turned her attentions to the Frost Dragon. This one was clearly stronger than any of the other dragons she had faced this far. She swallowed hard, watching as the Hagravens attempted to slay the dragon themselves. Fools. The dragon landed, crushing two under its claws. It reached down, mouth snapping around the third before shaking her violently and tossing her aside. He had thrown her into the five, charging Forsworn who had come to aid their Hagraven mistresses’. The dragon only blasted them with its frost breath. One Forsworn died; the others pushed through and attacked with axes.

Belinda moved toward the dragon as it dispatched its foes. She reached it just as it threw the last Forsworn against a boulder. The dragon turned its head to toward her. It snarled, eyes locking with Belinda’s. Then it snapped at her. Belinda jumped out of the way and made a downward slashed. The dragon’s head snapped to the other side, shaking off the injury. Belinda dropped her staff and moved around and jumped onto its right wing. The dragon tried to shake her off, jerking its wing around. She was getting off so easily, jumped onto its back and grabbing one of the spikes along its back. The dragon reared up, standing tall on its legs. It thrashed its head, Belinda dangling. The dragon took to the air. He rolled over, its spike too smooth and slick. Belinda fell, screaming. She reached for as much mana as she could. She summoned a giant eagle to catch and carry her. She stood on its back, bending her knees for balance. The eagle caught up with the dragon and got up alongside the dragon’s head. It glared at them. Belinda jumped off and grabbed its horn. That caused its head to be jerked to the side and made it veer to the side in a sharp angle. It took them downward and made them crash into the ground. Belinda fell off again and went tumbling into the water beneath the decks of Karthspire Camp. The dragon dragged further and destroyed half the decks. Lucien had retrieved Belinda’s staff.  
Sieghard jumped back as the deck he was on was destroyed. “Shit!” he exclaimed. He looked to see where Belinda landed. She was standing, shivering and soaking wet with mud and icy-cold water. She dropped her sword. She was looking around but couldn’t locate it. Sieghard jumped on the dragon’s head and brought his axe down. A few more hacks later, and it was dead.

Esbern and Delphine watched in awe and amazement as Belinda absorbed the dragon’s soul. After that, she collapsed. Sieghard ran over and lifted her up. She needed rest. They all did. A large group of Forsworn and a dragon? Who wouldn’t need the rest? They entered the cave. Dione, Delphine, and Lucien went ahead to clear out anything Forsworn. After Belinda was resting by a fire, Sieghard joined them. Shiver, Belinda went into a tent and changed into a cotton shirt, leggings, and clean boots. Despite her weariness, she cleaned her leather armor. Esbern watched her.

“It’s rude to stare,” Belinda muttered.

“I never thought I’d see the Dragonborn absorb a dragon’s soul,” Esbern pointed out.

Belinda sighed. “I don’t like doing it,” she told him. “I hate it, actually. Because it’s the soul of a living, sentient creature, a creature who dominates. I have to deal with the thrashing mass of dragon souls inside of me, hear their voices argue and bicker like insolent children. It. Is. Maddening. I fear someday, it will make me lose my mind.” She continued cleaning her armor. “I think I’m developing something of an understanding as to how the Dragonfires once worked in the Imperial City for thousands of years.”

“That the fires were always the soul of a dragon that died?” Esbern asked.

“Maybe,” Belinda answered. “With the newer…Barrier, however, Daedra are able to slip through easily. Daedric Princes can enter this world easier.”

“That’s not true,” Esbern argued.

“No, it’s true,” Dione replied, returning with the others. “I’ve spoken with Lady Nocturnal. They suffer much difficulty still, yes, but they can manifest. Albeit in weaker forms. But they appear nonetheless.”

They sat around the fire, resting, then sleeping. It was hours before they moved again, and this time it was only to eat breakfast. Afterwards, they stood and delved deeper into the caverns. They arrived at three pillars, each three-sided and each with Akaviri symbols. Esbern examined each of them and started turning them so they all had one symbol facing them: Dragonborn. An ancient stone bridge fell, and allowed them to proceed to the next area. This one was full of pressure plates with the same symbols.

“The ones for Dragonborn are the ones we want to step on,” Esbern pointed out.

“That’ll take too long,” Belinda said. She took a deep breath, “Wuld…”

“What-?” Delphine began to ask, but before she could finish, Belinda finished the Whirlwind Spring Shout and was standing next to a pillow with a pull chain on it.

“This is much easier,” she pointed out, pulling the chain. The trap was deactivated.

They reached the last area before Sky Haven Temple. It was a large cavern with…A seal of sorts in the center and a doorway blocked by the statue of a head. It was admittedly weird to look at. And creepy.

“Ah, the Akaviri Blood Seal,” Esbern pointed out. “This will open the rest of the way by blood.”

“Oh, blood magic; charming,” Belinda commented.

“Your blood, Dragonborn,” Esbern added.

“The fuck?”

“Pardon?”

“Why my blood?!” Belinda demanded.

“The blood of any Dragonborn,” Esbern responded.

Belinda groaned. “And we all know how few of those there are…” She looked to the others. “Anyone got a sharp knife?”

Dione handed her one. Belinda looked at her right arm and cut the side of it, letting the blood drip onto the seal. It worked and Esbern raised a brow at her.

“Not your hand?” he asked.

“No, because that is so stupid and I don’t know why anyone would just purposely cut their hand for blood magic,” Belinda answered. “Seriously, the hand? The part of your body you use to do most stuff? Sure, I can easily heal my cuts, but not everyone can! Cutting your hand allows for easier infection because people use that body part the most and the hand is hard to keep covered. Not to mention that laundry and dishes are washed by hand. And what if you’re cutting bloody meat and that blood gets in the wound?”

“She’s got a point,” Dione stated.

“Anyway…” Sieghard muttered.

“Belinda, we think you should go in first,” Delphine pointed out.

“Why me?” Belinda asked, her figurative feathers ruffled.

“No one has set foot inside Sky Haven Temple in centuries,” Esbern answered. “It would be an honor if the Ultimate Dragon Slayer be the first one to set foot inside.”

“Mm-hmm…” She pulled a lantern out of her pack and lit it. Lucien padded up alongside her.

“I’ll go with you,” he said.

Belinda gave him a tired smile. “Thanks.” Then they entered the temple…

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 25th of Frostfall, 4E201

Nathiel wore a hooded cloak over his new Dark Brotherhood armor, the front of the cloak closed down to his hips to keep the cuirass covered and hidden from sight. He wanted no one to know who he was now affiliated with. The Night Mother told him to come to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun, sit at table in the cover to his right upon entry, and wait. After a while, a woman came over and sat across from him. She seemed remarkably plain, but Nathiel could sense the noble air about her. That and the arrogance. The typical High Elven pride, that self-entitlement so commonly found with those such as First Ambassador Elenwen. She was dressed as a commoner, looking uncomfortable. It amused Nathiel.

“Your rituals are disgusting,” Elenwen commented.

“But required,” Nathiel replied. “You have my attention. What is it you want?”

“The Dragonborn.”

“Oh?”

“She infiltrated the Embassy, crashed my party, made off with several items of value and important documents, and killed several of my people,” Elenwen told him. “I want her dead.”

“Then this is your lucky day,” Nathiel chuckled darkly. “I’ll kill her for you, free of charge. I, myself, have a little vendetta against the Dragonborn. She is an enemy of my…Otherworldly employers and must be dealt with.”

“Excellent,” Elenwen chuckled.

\---

Sky Haven Temple, the Reach Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 25th of Frostfall, 4E201

The temple was dark. That wasn’t much of a surprise. Belinda held up her lantern, trying to see the ceiling. Dione and Sieghard were behind her, the former with a light spell and the latter bearing a torch. Sieghard looked into the braziers. There was burnt oil stains and ashes, but nothing useful to light them.

“Look for kindling and wood,” he told them. Belinda went to a room, which looked like an old armory. There were stands displaying Akaviri armor and katanas, round shields, and spears. On a stone table in the back rested a beautiful, intricate sword clearly not of Akaviri make. Lucien hopped onto the table and looked down at the sword.

“Dragonbane,” he said. “It was made by Amanisa herself in Rivendell a long time ago after her first battle with Draigoch. If it hadn’t been for her friend and companion Mithril, she might not have escaped.”

“Mithril?” Belinda asked.

“A Dragonet from Moria,” Lucien answered. “A few dragons went to Moria at some point and shrank in size over the years with each generation. Most lived on the summit Zirakzigil and others lived in the Flaming Deeps. Anywhere else and they became these blind, sickly things. But Mithril could see in both light and dark, was healthy, and had a body of silvery-white, like Mithril. She helped Amanisa in her first weeks in Moria before the Dwarves came to retake their ancient empire. And Mithril stayed at Amanisa’s side since. She   
was able to defend Amanisa from one of Draigoch’s attacks and allowed her to escape.”

“I’ve heard the dragons of Middle Earth were massive,” Belinda muttered, lifting up the sword. “Did Mithril survive?” she asked.

“Thankfully yes,” Lucien answered. “She lives a peaceful, relaxing life in Valinor.”

Belinda smiled. “Good.” Holding Dragonbane felt right in her hand. It was almost as if it was made for her. Of course, Amanisa made it so it was meant for her. “Does this work against the dragons of this world?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lucien answered. “While the dragons of each world are different, the sword’s enchantment seems to conform to each world’s rules on dragons.”

“Why did she leave it here?” Dione asked.

“For Dragonborn reasons,” Lucien answered. “Try not to lose it.”

Belinda nodded.

“Hey, where are you guys?!” Delphine called. “We got the braziers lit!”

The Planeswalkers rejoined the others, the lit braziers illuminating the very thing that came all this way for: Alduin’s Wall. It was as Lucien described. Standing just over seven feet tall, it was a Second Era Akiviri relief stone mural that came in three elaborate panels. The first panel depicted Alduin and the Dragons dominating the world. It faded to the Humans rising up against their oppressors. The centerpiece of the structure showed Alduin being brought down by the First Tongues, which showed two warriors and a sorcerer. The final part was showing the prophecy predicting Alduin’s returned, including several events from the late third era, from 3E399 to the last year 3E434. Finally, it ended on the Dragonborn’s battle with Alduin.

“Ah, Alduin’s Wall,” Esbern gasped.

“It’s amazing,” Belinda said. Her eyes fell on the center of the mural. Her finger touched wavy symbols that seemed to be coming out of the First Tongues’ mouths. “They’re Shouting and…” She looked up. Alduin was falling. “And it made Alduin fall from the sky?”

Everyone looked closer.

“You’re correct,” Esbern agreed. “Fascinating. I knew the First Tongues used a powerful weapon, but a Shout to knock a dragon from the sky.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Delphine pointed out. “Does it say what the Shout is? What the words of power are? Anything?”

“I can’t hear the chanting I usually hear when I’m by a word wall,” Belinda told them. “There’s no words of power here. Maybe the…Ugh, the Greybeards…”

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Delphine groaned.

“Master Borri isn’t so bad; it’s Arngeir I have a problem with,” Belinda pointed out. “Whelp, better go deal with them.”


	16. Chapter 16: Paarthurnax

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 3rd of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

Getting back to Whiterun was difficult. They hit two blizzards on the way out of the Reach and then got snowed in Rorikstead. After that blizzard, Sieghard took the women and Lucien outside the farming village, took on his beast form, and carried Belinda and Dione back to Whiterun. Lucien ran alongside them, keeping up with Sieghard. They raced across the snow-covered plains, kicking up snow easily. Wild horses and elk bolted in fright of the werewolf. Outside the city, Sieghard shifted back and redressed. The party then entered the city.

They went straight to Belinda’s house, which was now finished and entered. It was unlit, save for the weak sunlight streaming through the windows. It was also freezing, and needed to be warmed up. Sieghard went to fetch firewood and kindling from the general store. Belinda lit her lantern and looked around. It was infinitely better than her first time there and much better suited for more than one person. Now, if Dione wanted a cheap, well, free, place to stay, she could stay with Belinda because there was now more room. And a basement to boot.

Sieghard returned with the materials to light the fireplace and warm up the house. There was an entry room, a bit of a lounge and a wall around the new staircase. The kitchen area was to the right upon entry and where the fireplace was. The fireplace even had a compartment for baking. The dining area was behind the staircase, under which was another staircase leading down into the basement. There was a room for enchanting and alchemy in the side room. Downstairs was two additional rooms and a bathing chamber. Upstairs was a second bedroom and the master bedroom. Now, it just had to be furnished with rugs, decorations, and actual furniture.

“I’ll need to get stuff for this place,” Belinda sighed.

“We’ll help you,” Sieghard offered. “I used to be an apprentice to a carpenter and still remember how to make furniture.”

“And I can steal china, rugs, and such,” Dione pointed out.

Belinda smiled to them. “Thank you both,” she said. She went over and hugged them. They hugged back.

“Now, I’ll be back in a day with a bed; you stay in Jorrvaskr until it’s done,” Sieghard told her. “You too, Dione.”

“Thanks Sieg,” Dione said. “Seriously, that bed at the inn is starting to get an impression of my ass in it.” She laughed, and the others joined in the laugh.

Lucien smiled. Moments like these took him back to Middle Earth with Amanisa, joining in the laughter of friendship at the Prancing Pony. Lorlief drunk out of his mind and picking bits of bread and such from his beard, Rosabloom Took dancing on her big Hobbit feet, and more. He almost missed the party leaving, Sieghard stomping out the fire. Lucien followed them out, walking alongside Belinda.

“Do you want to train more on your magic?” he asked her.

“Sure,” Belinda answered.

She was much better at her magic, able to reach into the leylines and pull at the nearest mages. This included Farengar, Danica, and one other healer. She could reach just outside the city for any other possible mages. Now that there were many nearby, but her range was increasing. It was better than where she was mere months ago, continuous a healer without much respite from the ability. It wasn’t a terrible thing. She appreciated the skill level the healer had been at, and it enabled her to heal serious wounds, clear poisons from her system, and bring the people back from the brink.

“I don’t think I’ll ever find another healer like the one I’ve been mimicking for years,” Belinda sighed. “He was damn good.”

Lucien nodded.

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 4th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

It was the early hours of foredawn as Belinda slept in Aela’s old room in Jorrvaskr. Lucien was sleeping at her feet. If not for him, perhaps he would have done the deed, slain Belinda as she slept. As Nathiel entered the room, using potions to disguise his scent from the werewolves of the mead hall. But damn that lynx. Always alert, even in sleep. His blue eyes shone in the dark, and he rose to his paws, moving between Belinda’s sleeping form and Nathiel’s posed, ready to attack body.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” Lucien growled, staying quiet for Belinda. He heard her heart beat accelerate. She was awake and aware of the dangerous. She had a dagger sheathed under the pillow. She drew it out now, gripping the hilt tight. Whether or not Nathiel was aware of this, he gave no indication. The half-elf glared in irritation.

“Why are you on her side, Lucien?” Nathiel asked.

“I knew Amanisa for thousands of years,” Lucien answered. “She rescued me, cared for me, taught me, and made me the lynx I now am. And while Belinda has her soul, she doesn’t have most of the memories of Amanisa. What happened between you two was 1,500 years ago. Get over it.”

“If only I could,” Nathiel chuckled darkly. “Especially when she’s been marked for death by two others. Sithis has marked her and so has Skorn.”

“You always did find a master whose goal aligned with yours.”

“She shouldn’t have pissed off that Thalmor bitch.”

“And the Thalmor…” Lucien groaned. He whipped his head around so as to glare at Nathiel. “Either way, begone. You’ll not be laying a hand on her.”

Nathiel sneered, and was about to take a step forward when a large hand on his shoulder. Vilkas was standing behind him, glaring. Nathiel jumped away and Planeswalked. Belinda sat up, sheathing the dagger she had.

“Well, that was lovely,” Belinda grumbled. “Tell me, Lucien…Any other assholes who want me dead?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Belinda groaned, flopping back in annoyance.

\---

The Throat of the World, the Rift Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 8th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

It was easy to make the two-day trip to Ivarrstead. There was not a whole lot of snow to slow them down. Sieghard had decided to remain behind to build the furniture for Belinda’s house. So, it was just Belinda, Dione, and Lucien. They left not long after Nathiel’s assassination attempt, Belinda not wanting to stay in the same place after that. They stayed in the abandoned alchemist’s shack and then Ivarrstead. Before dawn the next morning, they climbed the blizzard’s assaulted mountain to the monastery. They made it around midnight and had rest. They slept until ten and then went straight to the back after a heavy meal. Belinda led them past the tower where Arngeir was meditating and Dione raised a brow.

“I thought we were going to talk to the Greybeards,” she pointed out.

“They’ll not reveal information regarding this mystery Shout,” Belinda said. “We need to see the Grandmaster. Only the Greybeards are permitted to see him, but I have a special right to see him as I please.”

“And that is?” Dione asked.

“When my Spark ignited, I landed before him and he trained me personally,” Belinda answered. “I know his greatest secret.” They came to an archway, the path to the summit blocked by a current of biting wind and ice. Belinda took a deep breath. “Lok…VAH-KOR!” She Shouted, her Voice blasting apart the wind and ice. As she had done that, the weather also started to clear up and the sky was blue, the sun shining bright. The ground did shake violently, indicating that the wind and ice had been powerful, and possibly caused by a Thu’um as well.

“Shit,” Dione gasped. “How does this guy live?!”

“You’ll see,” Lucien answered.

They climbed the mountain, the path guarded by ice wraiths and a frost troll. Belinda and Dione fought with fire, Lucien summoning a raven who batted the fires and made them stronger. After they reached the last gate, Lucien and the raven bumped heads and the raven was dismissed.

Must have been one of Amanisa’s animals, Belinda thought, before Shouting apart the wall of wind and ice blocking the last gate. The ground shook again, and this time Dione was ready for it. At the summit, they were above the clouds, there was a Word Wall at the far end of the summit, and at dusk, the sights they saw at the edge of the summit was breath-taking. Dione had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life, despite how icily-cold it was.

“Wow, if I died now, it would be so worth it,” she said, looking out over Skyrim.

“Just wait until it’s dark out,” Belinda pointed out. “The auroras here are just…Wow!”

Dione smiled, and then looked around. She saw no shelters, no means of guarding against the bitter cold of the mountaintop. Where did this recluse live? She frowned. The more she thought about this, the less she liked it. She soon stepped in a place where the air felt wrong, where reality seemed to tear. It felt like a rift in the fabric of time and space. It was wrong, more unnatural than spirits and undead. What was this place? How was it existing? She turned to Belinda and said, “We shouldn’t be here!”

That was when they heard a roar. Dione looked up, seeing a dragon now circling the summit. His scales were dull and grey, a horn was broken, and his wings were tattered. Dione drew her bow and an arrow, ready to fight. She looked to the others, expecting their weapons out. Instead, they were watching the dragon as it soon came to land before them. His landing sent a gale of powdery snow at them, making them shield their eyes. He looked at them with wise, ancient blue eyes the color of ice, not unlike Lucien’s.

“Drem yol lok; greetings,” he greeted, voice deep and rumbling with age. He turned his head to Dione and said, “Put that away before one becomes wounded. And you may wish to step out of the Time-Wound before it drives you mad.”

Dione did as told, but kept a firm grip on her bow while the dragon turned his attention to Lucien.

“Lucien Nightmist; it has been long,” the dragon greeted.

Lucien bowed. “Indeed it has,” he said. “Have you left the mountain at all since I last walked the surface of Nirn?” he asked.

“Ha! There were no dragons to blend in with since your last visit,” the dragon answered, chuckling. He turned then to Belinda. “And my pupil. Has your Tongue become rusty?”

“Considering I had no idea what two dragons, Alduin and Sahloknir, were talking about…Very,” Belinda responded.

“Alduin…” the dragon sighed. “I missed his return when I left the summit to eat. But I knew he would at least emerge from the Time-Wound here.” He turned to look past Dione, to the wound. “When I felt his return, I came quickly from my hunt and found him already gone, a shadow in the distance over Helgan.”

“Which he destroyed,” Belinda muttered.

The dragon nodded.

“So wait, this is Paarthurnax?” Dione asked.

“Yes,” Belinda answered. “This is the Grandmaster of the Greybeards, and, for the longest time, the last of the dragons. And…Alduin’s brother.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Alduin’s…Brother?”

“Yes. Yes he is,” Belinda sighed. “Paarthurnax was Alduin’s younger brother, his chief lieutenant, and advisor. I tell you this now to tell you what he has become since. A secret hero, the one who taught the First Tongues, a dragon who has defied his own nature to become a peaceful being through extensive meditation, has suffered hundreds of years of loneliness at a time, and a good friend who is ready to convert Alduin to the Way of the Voice, and help defeat him for good if it comes to it. If the Blades knew about Paarthurnax, they’d have him kill. And as his friend, I won’t allow it.”

“Thank you, Britdovlas,” Paarthurnax said. He smiled. “Now, I trust you at least remember customs and proper greetings among the Dov, do you not?” he asked.

“I at least remember that,” Belinda answered.

“Good; the eldest speaks first,” Paarthurnax pointed out. “Lucien?”

Lucien let out a roar, using illusion magic to give the appearance of breathing fire. Alas, he could not really breathe fire. Paarthurnax turned his head away from the trio and toward the wall. “YOL-TOOR-SHUL!” he Shouted. He turned to Dione. “Your name and age, Fahliil?” he asked her.

“What did he just call me?” Dione asked Belinda.

“He called you Elf in the dragon tongue,” Belinda answered.

“Oh…Dione Nightingale, age 25.”

“Then you speak next.”

“I don’t know how to Shout,” Dione pointed out.

“Just say Yol Toor Shul and throw a fireball at him,” Belinda said.

Dione conjured a fireball and said, “Yol-Toor-Shul,” and threw it at Paarthurnax. The ancient dragon just shook it off and turned now to Belinda.

“Oh, my god, it’s like being the youngest person in my class again,” Belinda muttered. She sighed and looked up to Paarthurnax. “Yol…” She inhaled, and exhaled, “TOOR-SHUL!” She blasted Paarthurnax with fire, and it seemed to bright his scales up. He practically bathed in the fire.

“Ahhh!” he bellowed. “Your Voice is stronger! I am both pleased and impressed with your progress.”

Belinda smiled and hugged Paarthurnax’s snout. “I’ve missed you,” she stated.

“And I’ve missed you, Britdovlas,” Paarthurnax responded. They pulled away. “Now, you’d not have come all this way and with friends in the middle of winter. Daring the mountain at this time of year is incredibly dangerous and you know this better than anyone.”

“I saw Alduin’s Wall,” Belinda explained, “and learned about the Shout to knock a dragon out of the sky. What is it and can you teach me?” she asked.

“The Shout is Dragonrend, and no, I can’t teach you,” Paarthurnax replied.

“And why not?” Dione asked.

“Dragonrend was forged by mortals out of deepest hate wielding concepts that no dragon can comprehend,” Paarthurnax answered.

“When you put it that way, it sounds more evil than anything,” Dione said. “What about the Greybeards?”

“If it is not natural to dragons, then they wouldn’t know it,” Belinda answered. She looked then to the Time-Wound. “But maybe if we go back in time, we could learn it.”

“Is that even possible?” Dione questioned.

Belinda opened her mouth. “Not…In this…Reality. I think,” she answered, after a moment. “Um, maybe? I don’t know? I’ve never time traveled or time jumped!”  
“Perhaps you could use the Elder Scroll the First Tongues used to send Alduin ahead in time,” Paarthurnax suggested.

“Or we could use the Elder Scrolls the First Tongues-. Wait, what?!” Belinda exclaimed, looking at Paarthurnax.

“I live for moments like these,” Lucien chuckled.

“Can it, kitty cat,” Belinda barked. She turned back to Paarthurnax. “Now, what’s this about an Elder Scroll?” she questioned.

“The First Tongues used an Elder Scroll to send Alduin ahead in time,” Paarthurnax answered. “They had hoped that Alduin would stay lost to the currents of time, but I knew better.” He turned to face the Time-Wound. “And because of this, I knew where he would emerge, just not when. All I could hope for was he would arrive during a time when there was a Dragonborn.”

“A pretty far-flung hope,” Dione commented, earning Paarthurnax’s eyes. “What if Belinda had never come? Could Alduin truly devour the world-…?” What Alduin was meant to do finally sank in. Alduin was meant to devour the world, but Dione could easily escape because she was a Planeswalker. Her mother. Her lover. Her friends. Her family. They. Were. Planesbound. And Dione couldn’t just uproot them and bring them and her home to safety. They were stuck and she was not. “I would have nothing. A Planeswalker with no home, no friends, no family, no Brynjolf…” She started shaking, the cold, cruel reality of what it meant to be a Planeswalker starting to crush her. She flopped onto her backside, staring at the ground with wide, horrified eyes.

Lucien went over and leaned against, trying to be comforting. “I’ve met many displaced Planeswalkers,” he pointed out. “10,000 years will have you meeting such souls. Planeswalkers forced to look for a new home because their plane was destroyed, either by them, by an opponent, or even some terrible monster of the Blind Eternities. But there’s something to consider. You can pack and leave while you have the chance or you can stay and fight your Plane’s inevitable doom. You’re a Planeswalker. You. Have. A. Choice. Do not let reality overwhelm you now. You can do this. You also have to. Belinda needs you. She didn’t grow up on Nirn. You did. She needs your help.”

Dione looked him in the eye. “Okay. Sorry.” She stood, shaking still.

Belinda went up and hugged her. “Whatever it takes, Dione. I’ll make sure that you’ll always have a home to come back to.”


	17. Chapter 17: Into the Dark

Winterhold College, Winterhold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 14th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

“So, how do we find the Elder Scroll?” Belinda had asked Dione.

“Urag gro-Shub,” Dione answered. “He’s the Librarian at Winterhold College. He might know a thing or two about any Elder Scrolls.”

“Winterhold? Aren’t the roads there impassable most of the year as it is?” Belinda asked.

“But not impossible,” Dione answered. “It’ll be a hard journey, but we can do it.”

Paarthurnax had sheltered them and their fire as they huddled by the word wall. And Lucien snuggled between Belinda and Dione, helping to keep them warm. The dragon woke the three before dawn so they could get down to Ivarrstead by dusk. Now, getting down the Throat of the World was easy. There were no beasts blocking the path, their legs did not ache for they descended, and Belinda Shouted away the harsh weather. The Clear Skies Shout lasted the entire way down and they arrived at Ivarrstead at before dusk. They rented a room at the inn and ordered supper and drinks. They had beef meat pies with melted cheese, slivered onions and diced garlic added for extra flavor. It was the best and the three enjoyed it.

“We must order more for the road,” Lucien told the two.

“Agreed,” Belinda chuckled, and took a drink of her cider. She went to the counter and order nine more meat pies to be wrapped up for tomorrow.

The next morning, they left before dawn to get as far as they could. The journey to Windhelm was easy enough and they made it in two days, arriving just before midnight on the second day. They were exhausted, and Lucien had to make sure they were awake the following morning. They tempters were freezing, and got worse as they moved further north. Belinda wonder how the Hell the people of Winterhold and Winterhold College survived this far north. One morning, they passed a fortress infested with Necromancers and their undead servants. Thankfully, the weather was agreeable enough for a fight. The undead moved more stiffly than their living masters. Lucien served to distract the living while Dione and Belinda dealt with the zombies. Then the two Planeswalkers came for the living.

Afterwards, they continued to Winterhold. The blanketed road was threatened by Frost Trolls, Snowy Saber Cats, and Polar Bears, all desperate for fresh meat. The trio made it just after dusk. No one was outside. Who would want to be? For no sooner did they enter Winterhold, the hamlet was assaulted by a blizzard. Dione was able to lead them across the crumbling bridge to the College. It was surprisingly warmer on the college grounds, the courtyard illuminated by magic that gave off life and warmth and allowed more than snowberries to grow there. Overhead was a magical dome, the illusion of snow drifting past. Belinda was impressed.

“Everyone will be sitting down for supper in the Halls of Attainment and Countenance,” Dione pointed out. “Urag has his meals in the Hall of Countenance with other faculty members. He usually spends half an hour eating and then returns to the Arcanaeum as soon as possible. He doesn’t like food or drink in the Arcanaeum. Forbids it, actually. One of the first things I did as Archmage was help him draft a proper list of rules for the Arcanaeum and signed it, letting the college know I approved it.” They stopped at the large double doors of a tower. “This tower houses the Hall of Elements on the ground floor, the Arcanaeum above it, and the Archmage’s Quarters, my quarters, above that. The Arcanaeum is locked when Urag isn’t here, but the door to the Arcanaeum via the Archmage’s Quarters are never locked. Though I don’t think you want to climb that many steps just to reach the Arcanaeum.”

“Not really, no,” Belinda responded, and then her stomach growled. “But I am hungry.”

“To the Hall of Countenance then,” Dione laughed. “I needed to bug Enthier anyway…”

They entered the Hall of Countenance, hearing people talking upstairs in the dining area. Some members of the faculty were having meals in their rooms, doors shut and with signs on the doorknobs that read “EATING.” Dione led Belinda and Lucien upstairs. There were two more bedrooms here, a small dining area and kitchen right across from the stairs. An Enchanter’s Room and an Alchemy Lab flanked the dining room. An old, Nord man came over to the trio.

“Archmage! Welcome back, welcome back!” he greeted, taking Dione’s hands in his own. “We’ve missed you greatly here! I thought you were spending winter in Riften.”

“I thought so too until the whole Dragonborn thing and Alduin returning to eat the world,” Dione responded.

“Alduin himself is back?” the old man exclaimed. “Well, that’s not good! We have to do something! He’ll enslave us and eventually destroy the world!”

“Tolfdir, relax,” Dione commanded. “You’ll start stirring up the whole college. What we need to do is remain calm. Besides, I brought someone who can save us.” She gestured for Belinda to come forward, and the Dragonborn did so. “This is the Dragonborn the Greybeards calls a few months ago. We need her to save the world, yes, but she needs our help now.”

“Dragonborn?! Welcome, welcome!” Tolfdir greeted, surprised and quite delighted. “I am Tolfdir, Trainer in Alteration Magic and Teacher of First Year students. It’s been a long time since a Dragonborn entered Winterhold College.”

“Yeah, over 200 years,” Belinda muttered.

“Is Urag in the Arcanaeum?” Dione asked.

“Yes; he took an early supper,” Tolfdir answered. “Is there something in the Arcanaeum that could be useful to defeating Alduin?”

“Anything pertaining to an Elder Scroll,” Dione answered. “I know we don’t actually have one, but we must have books on them.”

“I think we do,” Tolfdir muttered, and then heard three hungry tummies. Dione’s mouth became a thin line, Belinda shuffled her feet, and Lucien look down. “After supper first,” the old man chuckled.

The three sat at the table and started loading up their plates with roast venison and veggies, which included carrots, garlic cloves, little golden potatoes, and slivered onions. Belinda and Dione massed their potatoes and scooped butter and a little extra pepper on them. Belinda fixed Lucien a bowl and mashed and buttered the potatoes for him. It’s not that the three didn’t have food, just that most of it was jerky and bread and some snowberries they acquired on the road.

“This is good,” Belinda sighed.

“Um, are you sure you should be feeding your cat that?” one of the mages asked. It was an Altmer woman with a soft voice. “There’s onions, garlic, and other things cats really shouldn’t eat.”

Dione finally realized that and looked to Lucien, who was licking his lips. “You’re eating stuff that’s hazardous to your health!” she exclaimed.

“Relax; I’m quite old and spent years beyond counting immune to the things that would kill a normal cat,” Lucien pointed out. “Thankfully, I’m still immune to the foul side effects of my diet. By the Divines, Dione, you’ve seen me drinking alcohol!”

“He has a point,” Belinda stated. “Besides, if the food he was eating was making him sick, I’m sure he would have said so by now.”

“Exactly,” Lucien chuckled, and resumed eating.

Dione decided she would keep an eye on him from now on. After supper, they went to the Arcanaeum to see Urag and get his help on the Elder Scrolls. He provided two books: Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls and Effects of the Elder Scrolls. The latter was on group studies on people reading the scrolls. It was legible, but overall not very helpful. The first book however was complete and utter nonsense! The trio exchanged baffled looks.

“This author is clearly a bouncing nutter,” Belinda pointed out.

“Like you’re a fine one to talk,” Dione responded.

“True, but my writing would never look like this whole load of nonsensical crap,” Belinda retorted.

“That’s Septimus Signus for you,” Urag sighed.

“Septimus?” Dione questioned. “Enthir, Tolfdir, and a few others have mentioned him before. That he was a teacher that taught about the Dwemer and artifacts?”

“That’s correct,” Urag answered. “We never did get that position refilled.”

“I’ll put the word out with my contacts,” Dione pointed out. “So, whatever happened to Septimus?” she asked.

“He said he found an artifact that required his attention up north in the ice field,” Urag answered. “Whatever it is must be…”

Dione nodded. “Has kept him busy for too long. We should try and find him at least,” she pointed out.

“Are you crazy? The ice field and the Sea of Ghosts is dangerous enough most of the year,” Urag told them. “It’s even worse during the long winters of Skyrim.” He groaned. “Who’s in charge if you die?” he asked.

“Tolfdir, as usual,” Dione answered.

“Very well.”

\---

Septimus’s Outpost, the Sea of Ghost  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 15th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

Nathiel reached Septimus first. He had followed Belinda, Dione, and Lucien to Winterhold College and listened in on their conversation with Urag. He traveled to Septimus’s outpost immediately. He came up behind them, saw Urag mark the map, and was attacked by Lucien. Lucien lunged at him, tearing into his arm. Belinda and Dione had jumped in alarm, and even Urag reacted slowly. Lucien went for Nathiel’s neck while Urag came with an axe. But Nathiel Planeswalked out before death. He faded back in a few miles west, barely missing the ocean. He pulled a tooth from his arm, cleaned the wound, and bandaged it. Next, he made his way north, jumping from ice block to ice block to the outpost, remembering the map. He made it to an island within, which was covered in ice rather quickly.

He entered and found Septimus pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. The old man was crazy. Nathiel needed to be careful. Madmen were much stronger than they looked. He took out his bow and a poison-tipped arrow. In one fluid motion, he notched, drew back, and aimed. The madman paused and looked up at him. Nathiel felt a presence and turned to see an inky mist with eyes and tentacles massing within. It was disgusting. A few tentacles came at him, and he jumped off the ledge he had been on. He used magic to give him an extra boost so he could land behind Septimus. He dropped his bow and arrow and drew a curved dagger. Once he landed, he ran up to Septimus and stabbed him in the back.

Septimus gasped, blood coming from his mouth. Nathiel stabbed him two more times before slicing his throat and dropping him to the floor. The tentacles came at the assassin again, but Nathiel was already Planeswalking away.

When Belinda, Dione, and Lucien arrived the next morning, they found Septimus dead. Dione rolled him over and closed his eyes. Belinda kicked a stool in anger.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Dione answered. She looked over to the giant, Dwemer cube stuck in the ice. “So, this is what he was researching?” She went over and examined the artifact. “A Dwemer lockbox of some kind.” She ran her fingertips along the puzzles and intricate locks. Too intricate for any human, elf, or beastfolk to understand. Only the long-extinct Dwarves. “What are you hiding?”

“If it’s the Elder Scroll we’re looking for, we’re screwed,” Belinda answered.

“Um, guys,” Lucien called, tail between his legs and ears flat against his head.

The others turned and saw the mass of inky mist, blinking eyes, and slimy tentacles. The grotesque thing looked at them, and then spoke in a low, deep voice that was slow. “Ah, another Dragonborn,” he said. His voice sounded as slimy as he looked.

“Begone Mora,” Dione snapped. “She’s not interested in whatever it is you offer.”

“It is her destiny to enter that lockbox,” the mass told them.

“What’s inside?” Belinda asked.

“That is for you to discover,” the mass answered. “In Septimus’s desk, there.” A tentacle pointed to the desk next to Belinda. “Bottom, left-hand drawer. Two items and a journal to help you find your way to the Elder Scroll and the key to the lockbox.”

Belinda went over and pulled out the drawer. A large, leather-bound journal sat beneath two Dwemer items. One was a cube and the other a sphere. She took them out and Dione walked over, taking the cube.

“A blank lexicon,” she muttered. “I met an Argonian once; she was mad and raving and gave me a filled lexicon and begged me to take it back to where she got it.”

“And what’s this?” Belinda asked.

“I think that’s an attunement sphere,” Dione answered, bagging both objects. “They’re used to delve deeper into some Dwemer runes. And I think I know where this sphere can be used. There’s a ruin out in Hjaalmarch, southwest of Dawnstar. The exterior ruins are sizable, but I know my way around the interior. I went there once to retrieve a friend’s sword from the depths and found a stand where an attunement sphere was needed.”

“How do you know that though?” Belinda asked.

“I talked to Calcemo in Markarth about it,” Dione answered. “Did some favors to get him to let me in and all that what; did it to help my mom with some old business because my father, may he rest in peace, was always too smart for his own good and wrote his damned journal in bloody FALMER! And somehow along the way, I ended up becoming Thane of the Reach. It’s all so very complex.”

Belinda snorted. “Clearly. Some of these Holds and their cities are such messes,” she agreed, and started flipping through the journal. It listed a few other Dwemer ruins connected to a place called Black Reach, which supposedly housed an Elder Scroll, how to use the attunement sphere, how to fill the lexicon, etc, etc. “Guy is detailed, but his writing is a mess. He talks about an empire called Black Reach that connects three Dwemer ruins in the northern half of Skyrim, including Mzinchaleft, Alftand, and Raldbthar.”

“I know where two of those are,” Dione pointed out. “Alftand…?”

“A couple days southwest of Winterhold,” Belinda answered. “Built into the ice…Yeah, because that’s a great idea to build something into a fucking glacier!” She turned to see the tentacle monster gone and asked Dione, “What was that and did you know him? Mora, you called him?”

“Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of Knowledge,” Dione answered. She saw he had left. She looked then into the drawer and saw another Dwemer item, this one with needles. “The bastard’s up to something, and it might involve this. Let’s go…” She groaned, bagging the item. They raided Septimus’s food supply, which included bread and dried meats and fruits. They took what they could back to Winterhold College, giving Urag the books and soul gems.

\---

Alftand, Winterhold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 18th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

After that, they went into town and started preparing for the journey to Alftand. They slept again, and heavily, that night since Nathiel stole a night’s rest from them. Lucien slept by the fireplace with some snow and cloves in his mouth. His attack on Nathiel had caused him to lose a tooth and now that all the excitement was over and he had lost a lot of sleep, his mouth hurt badly. Belinda was giving a guest room in the Hall of Elements to sleep, with Lucien staying with her. Dione slept in the Archmage’s quarters. They were up before sunrise, packed, and moving on to Alftand after Belinda used the Clear Skies Shout to ensure an easier journey.

The wilderness had some of the same beasts native to the region, so fire spells and enchantments were truly beneficial. Despite how far north they were, the snow wasn’t really that deep and they made pretty good time. They arrived at the exterior ruins at dusk, seeing a destroyed camp and recovering a book on an expedition. They then hurried inside to escape the icy night and what looked to be the approach of a blizzard with the intention of befriending the expedition members and explaining their presence. The inside was much colder than the outside, and they questioned whether to dare the approaching blizzard and the icy night air or to proceed further in the hopes of finding a more suitable spot to rest. Though some of what they saw made them think that maybe going all the way to Mzinchaleft wasn’t such a bad idea…

A camp overturned and torn down and a journal by Sulla Trebatius, who wrote the expedition manifest they found earlier. They moved down the tunnel, Dione casting Magelight. The little light moved where she wanted it, sparking with little bolts of lightning. Dione had tried to not add anything extra to the spell. It just happened. They came to a pair of barrels, behind which was a wall of ice with a sort of window showing off the neighboring chamber. In said chamber was two Khajiit, and they were arguing over Skooma. After winding through the passages, they found one dead with axe wounds and the other alive and swinging an axe at them. They dispatched him quickly.

The ruins were full of Dwemer Automatons, dead bodies, blood, and Falmer, and Falmer were always a pleasant addition. Spiders were even worse! Especially when they twitched after dying. It took a day to reach the entrance to Blackreach, and it was after a battle with a massive Centurion. Thankfully, it was fooled by Lucien’s phantasms, smashing them into bluish plasma while Dione moved around the room and fired arrows at various weak points. Belinda was using arcane ice to help slow its movements for Dione. After that, they encountered Sulla and another survivor, a Redguard woman named Umana. They were tense, weapons drawn, and ready to spill blood.

The two fought, and Lucien told Belinda and Dione to hold back and let the two fight. They were hungry, weary, and on the edge of madness and would undoubtedly turn on them. Umana won the fight, and finally turned on them. A few spells and a fight where Belinda learned quickly to avoid being bashed by Umana’s shield later, Umana was dead and Belinda’s arm was bleeding heavily.

“Fuck,” she hissed, her arm burning with agony and blood dripping to the floor.

“Damn it, stay still!” Dione ordered, taking Belinda’s arm. She healed with an extra spell thrown in to dispel the effects of the shield’s enchantment. After Belinda’s arms was stitched and bandaged, they used the attunement sphere on the stand and a stairway opened up. They entered the fabled Blackreach.

“Oh. My. Gods…” Belinda gasped, looking upon the massive, natural cavern beneath the mountains of Skyrim, alight with giant fungi and shimmering with jewels…


	18. Alduin's Bane

Blackreach  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 22th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

Blackreach was massive, probably able to fit all five of the major cities of Skyrim within. It was light by the natural phenomenon of giant, glowing fungi and the soft glow of strange geodes. Large, thick spores of glowing white lazed in the air, appearing as glowing snow. Dwarven structures were scattered about, all connected by an ancient stone road travelled by Falmer, Dwemer automatons, and gods only knew what else! It was, for lack of a better word, extraordinary!

“Oh, just imagine the riches that might be found here!” Dione gasped.

“If this place has been sealed for centuries, we’ll be walking out of here rich,” Belinda answered. She was in awe of the cavern. “But now I’m imagining some of the creatures that might live here. With this kind of environment, how do you think the creatures here have developed over the centuries?”

“An astute question,” Lucien pointed out, thinking back to his youth when he assisted Amanisa against Cave-Claws in various Dwarven mines.  
Dione took out a blank journal and started scribbling and sketching. Their first stop was an old house where they found the skeletal remains of the famed, Altmeri alchemist Sinderion. He was known for his work on Nirnroot, how to cultivate and grow it, the potions and poisons spawned from it, and how to successfully use it in cooking without a bitter aftertaste. Lucien’s ears flattened and he looked sad.

“It is a sad day for the world,” he said. “He was a brilliant mind in matters of alchemy.”

They spent days in Blackreach, looking for the brilliant and noisy and rare Red Nirnroot. From Sinderion’s journal, they learned of an old student of his, a Dunmer living with her sister in the Rift. They planned to take Sinderion’s notes and the red Nirnroot to her. It just sort of made the most sense. Their search took them into many buildings, to glowing lakes, and face-to-face with Falmer, spiders, Chaurus, automatons, and even a giant! There was a tribe of them in one corner of the cavern, misty-eyed with glowing fungi growing on them. Their skin was pasty in color and their hair looked very oily and thin. They dressed similarly to the Falmer, even wearing bits and pieces of Chaurus plate. Dione recorded the giants in her journal, drawing one for good measure, even despite her lack of an erasure.

“These things may as well be Falmer themselves,” she commented, sealing how possible centuries in the strange, underground world had caused them to develop.  
Belinda and Lucien nodded in agreement. They went to a small city in the center of the cavern. It was artificially illuminated by a massive sphere that shone like the sun. Humans and elves and beastfolk walked here, dressed in rags. When they saw the trio, they retreated into the shadows, watching them wearily. Belinda looked to them, Dione looking up at the sphere hanging from the ceiling. Lucien was also fascinated by the artifact. Belinda decided to pace around the two while they scribbled in their journals, Lucien using telekinesis to hold the journal and pens. Belinda was impressed with that.

“How many items can you hold with your telekinesis?” Belinda asked.

“Quite a bit,” Lucien answered. “Pardon me for asking dear, but why are you pacing around us?” he asked, taking a moment to watch Belinda.

“Look around us,” Belinda responded, “in the shadows. We’re surrounded.”

Dione’s eyes went wide and she tore her gaze from the artificial sun. She and Lucien looked around, seeing into the shadows. They caught the eyes of the humanoids lurking in the shadows and watching them. “Well, that’s disconcerting,” she commented.

“Falmer slaves, possibly,” Lucien muttered. “We should be cautious here.”

Belinda nodded, and then looked back up at the sphere. There was something peculiar about it as she stared into the orange depths. Then she sensed it: Life. The sphere was alit because of what was trapped within. She threw back her head, uttering, “FUS!”

Dione and Lucien turned their eyes to her.

“-RO-DAH!” Unrelenting Force slammed into the sphere. Everyone stared as the orb let out a ring that echoed through the cavern. Above, they could hear the shifting of gears and steam hissing. The metal released the giant orb, letting it fall to the ground. People screamed and fled indoors while the trio moved out of the way. The orbs shattered upon the ground, revealing a massive, black dragon with glowing veins of angry red-orange and the eyes to match. The dragon unfurled, shards of glass falling away from his body as he let out a terrible snarl of anger.

Vulthuryol: Dark, Overlord, Fire. Son of Alduin, captured and imprisoned by the Dwarves to light the Silent City. He unleashed a jet of flame upon the group, all three of whom jumped out of the way. Belinda wasn’t sure she knew what she had been thinking. In fact, how the Hell did the Dwarves manage to get a full-grown dragon down here in the first place? Blackreach was massive with plenty of room to support a dragon, but none of the lifts were even remotely big enough. They must have had to drag him through the ruins…No, the stairs that the attunements spheres opened were no large enough! Well, if anyone could figure out how to get a dragon down here and into a giant sphere it couldn’t break out of, the Dwarves surely could figure it out.

“Did you know there was a dragon in there?” Lucien asked.

“Yes,” Belinda answered.

Vulthuryol went after Dione, who alone and in a corner. She blasted him with ice, making the dragon’s head snap back. He tried to reach up and bat the ice from his face, giving Dione a window to slip away. Lucien and Belinda came to help fight. Dione moved a safe distance, climbing to a perch before drawing her bow and arrows. Belinda drew Dragonbane from its sheath. The blade broke through the dragon’s scales and cut the flesh beneath. The pain made the dragon roar in fury and pain. He Shouted fire at her, but Lucien was prepared and threw up a ward in front of her. She felt the heat and force behind the Shout and raised her arm to guard her face just as the ward was shattered.

“Well, fuck,” Belinda muttered. “That’s hotter than most Dragonfire.”

The dragon snarled. “I will incinerate you,” Vulthuryol told her, showing his razor-sharp teeth. He tried to snap at her with those teeth, but she danced to the side and slashed his face. His head whipped to the side, only to meet an ice-charged arrow to the face. He glared, the arrow sticking out of his forehead. “WORM!” he bellowed.

“You’re a fine one to talk!” Dione retorted.

Vulthuryol took to the sky, aiming to kill her. Lucien quickly made an illusion copy of Dione, who downed an invisibility potion and moved to a new location. The dragon was surprised when he clamped his teeth down on nothing. Dione had moved higher and jumped onto his back, grabbing one of the spikes along his spine. The dragon tried to shake her off while staying in the air. Of course, he was losing air. It was too thick and heavy for him to balance while shaking someone off. So when his tail was within reach, Belinda punched her sword through the end and impaled the ground beneath. Vulthuryol roared in pain again. The trio knew the sword wouldn’t hold, and Lucien used an illusion of Belinda with her sword to attract his attention fully to the ground. He came at the illusion, pulling Dragonbane from the ground while Dione stabbed between the shoulders with her Nightingale sword. The sound that came from the dragon’s mouth was a howl-like screech of pain. Belinda managed to get ahold of her sword and ran up to finish him off with a blow to the head.

Vulthuryol died that day.

\---

Blackreach  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 24th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E201

The collected 30 samples of the Crimson Nirnroot, discovered all the lifts back to the surface, and were loaded with riches, books, and alchemical ingredients. They were ready to leave though, and finally made their way to the Tower of Mzark. It was on a tiny island in the river before the water spilled over the edge. It was accessible via a stone bridge. Once inside, they made their way to the Oculory where the Elder Scroll was. The place was beautiful, and Dione went to work. She placed the lexicon on the stand and began fiddling around with the puzzles until the Elder Scroll was freed. Belinda took it carefully into her hands by the handles.

“Okay, we got it,” Dione said, and then looked to the lexicon, “and inscribed the lexicon in the process.” The cube was now glowing. “I’ll read it later. I’ve always wondered what an Elder Scroll said.” She picked it up and put it in her pack. “We should get going. Paarthurnax is waiting.”

Belinda nodded. She was curious as to what the scroll said as well. She put it in one of Lucien’s bags, and they activated the lift out of Blackreach.

\---

The Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 1st of Evening Star, 4E201

Their first stop had been Sarethi Farm in the Rift. Dione and her mother Karliah knew her well, as she was one of the few people who actually knew how grow, harvest, and use Nirnroot aside from Sinderion. So, Dione and Karliah purchased from her often. Not only that, but Dione had also brought her quite a few Jazbay grapes when passing by. The acidic content helped the Nirnroot flourish. So, it made sense that Dione dropped the heart breaking news to her fellow Dunmer.

“He was always so foolish,” Avrusa Sarethi sighed. She looked at the Crimson Nirnroot. “I suppose I’ll have to finish his research.” She gave Dione a book on Nirnroot.  
Next they went to the Throat of the World and made the exhausting climb up. They stopped to rest in the monastery and to have eat, famished and exhausted from a tireless journey. It was also the point Sieghard caught up to them. He arrived early in the morning. He had just changed back from his beast form, and managed to carry his armor from Whiterun to the monastery.

“How did you know we’d be here?” Belinda asked.

“Lucky guess,” Sieghard answered, sounding a tad weary. He had been up all night enjoying the hunt with his mate and brothers.

Belinda, Dione, and Lucien explained the events that transpired as they ascended to the summit, from Paarthurnax’s identity, their search for the Elder Scroll, Blackreach, and Sarethi Farm and the Crimson Nirnroot. They reached the top, Paarthurnax still waiting. He looked up at them.

“You have it! The Kel!” he exclaimed. “Quickly, take it to the Time Wound and read it! Quickly, Alduin comes!”

Belinda nodded and stood in the middle of the Time Wound, feeling its madness. She felt the eternities clawing at her. She held up the scroll and opened it. Light flashed into her eyes, light in the shapes of stars and planets and systems. Her eyes widened and rolled back and she dropped the scrolls. She looked before her, the sky red from fire with black smoke rolling into clouds. She gasped, seeing a dragon, only for it to be slain by a Nord woman. One of the First Tongues!

“Hakon!” the woman shouted, looking to a man who then entered Belinda’s line of sight. “A glorious day, is it not!” She grinned wickedly, blood dripping from her sword.

“Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade, Gormlaith?” the one named Hakon demanded, sound exasperated.

He sounds like an older brother, Belinda thought.

“What else is there?” the woman Gormlaith asked, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder.

Hakon sighed, and looked down over the side of the mountain. “Even with Paarthurnax’s aid, the battle below still goes ill,” he growled. “If Alduin does not rise to our challenge soon, I fear all may be lost.”

“You worry too much, Brother,” Gormlaith laughed, a most booming sound. “Victory will be ours!”

Another man, this one older and in robes, joined them. Hakon turned to him, glaring.

“Felldir, why does Alduin hang back?” he demanded. “We’ve stakes everything on this plan of yours, old man!”

“He will come,” Felldir assured, looking past Hakon. “He cannot ignore our defiance. Why should he fear us, even now?” He looked toward Belinda, almost like he could see her. Was she an apparition?

“We’ve bloodied him well!” Gormlaith boasted. “Four of his kin have fallen to blade alone this day!” She raised her sword, feeling triumph.

“But none have yet stood against Alduin himself,” Felldir pointed out, turning to face the parading blond Nord. “Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…”

“They did not have Dragonrend,” Gormlaith stated, stopping to look at Felldir. “Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head.”

Felldir sighed, annoyed by Gormlaith. He was not the only one. “You do not understand,” he huffed. “Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength.” He then produced the Elder Scroll. “Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll.”

Hakon, who had seated himself on a boulder a moment ago to drink from a wetskin, now stood suddenly, anger on his face. “Felldir!” he shouted. “We agreed not to use it!”  
“I never agreed,” Felldir snapped, jabbing a finger in Hakon’s direction. “And if you are right, I will not need it. But I doubt it…”

“No!” Hakon barked. “We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now!”

Gormlaith was looking toward the sky, and spotted a black shape flying toward them. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. “We shall see,” she sneered. “Alduin approaches!”  
Hakon let out a tired breath. “So be it,” he grumbled, and drew his sword.

Alduin landed on the Word Wall, snarling. He was larger, more menacing, than he was now. Belinda flinched. “Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu’u hin daan!”

Wait, what? Belinda thought.

“Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!” Gormlaith shouted.

“JOOR-ZAH-FRUL!” the First Tongues Shouted, forcing Alduin to the ground before he could even fly a foot. The dragon crashed while the Shout seemed to backlash and hit Belinda full-forced and knocked her down. She sat up, watching the fight unfold while Alduin let out a terrible screech.

“Nivahriin joorre!” he exclaimed. “What have you done?! What twisted Words have you created! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck!” He glared then to the First Tongues, his body now shrunk to his modern appearance. “But first… Dir ko maar.” He snarled. “You will die in terror, knowing your final fate: To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!”

Gormlaith charged, grinning like a madwoman. “If I die today, it will not be in terror!” she shouted, taking a swing, but missed. “You feel terror for the first time, worm! I see it in your eyes. Skyrim will be free!”

Hakon shook off any doubts he had and charged in. Alduin knocked him back, and then snapped his teeth on Gormlaith, crushing the life from her. He threw her at Felldir, knocking the old man down.

“NO!” Hakon shouted, seeing his sister’s broken corpse. “Felldir! Use the Scroll!” He charged Alduin again, attacking and distracting him.

Felldir pushed Gormlaith’s body off him and picked up the scroll. He stood, raising the scroll. “Hold, Alduin on the Wing!” he bellowed, scroll beginning to glow. “Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own, we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we Shout you out from all our endings unto the last!”

A shimmering blue light wrapped around Alduin, who was now looking around in confusion. He looked at Felldir, and saw the scroll. “Faal Kel…?! Nikriinne!” He tried to reach out, only to vanish.

Felldir fell to his knees, exhausted. “You… Are banished,” he huffed.

Hakon withdrew his sword and turned, going to help Felldir up. “It worked,” he said. “You did it.”

“Yes, the World-Eater is gone,” Felldir agreed. “For now. May the spirits have mercy on our souls...”

The vision ended, Belinda briefly blacking out. When she opened them, Alduin was hovering overhead, glaring upon her. Was he bigger again? She was sure he bigger. She grinned in amusement.

“Put on some weight, have you?” she joked.

Paarthurnax chuckled, hiding his snout under a wing.

Alduin snarled. “My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals,” he responded, unamused.

“So you got fatter?” Belinda retorted. Cheap shots, and disrespectful, she knew. But it was too easy with Alduin at the moment. He had definitely gotten bigger and just admitted to having eaten some souls. I need better jokes, she thought.

“Die now, and await your fate in Sovngarde,” Alduin snapped, and Shouted fire. Belinda let out a yell and scrambled out of the way before being flame-broiled.

Paarthurnax then looked to Alduin. “Lost funt!” he shouted. “You are too late, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend if you know it!” He took flight, attacking Alduin.

The two dragons began fighting like birds, batting at each other with their wings, clawing with their talons, and trying bite one another. Belinda watched, waiting for an opening. She moved around, following the fight. Finally, she got Alduin from behind and Shouted Dragonrend. The force took Alduin, making him fall as he had thousands of years ago. Paarthurnax Shouted blue fire on him, making him roar in pain. Alduin had shrunk back down to the size of a normal dragon size.

“Now that how you burn calories,” Belinda joked. Note to self: Write better jokes!

“My teeth to your neck,” Alduin snarled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Belinda drew her sword attacked. Her friends joined her. They fought with Alduin until Dragonrend’s hold faded and allowed him back to the sky. Belinda was swift to Shout him back down, and Alduin growled menacingly at her. He snapped at her and she cut through his scales on the right side of his face. Black blood oozed from between the scales. “So you do bleed?” Belinda asked, too exhausted from the battle to grin. How long had they been fighting? Ten minutes now?

She saw Sieghard cut into one of the leathery membranes between to spines. The membrane tore cleanly thanks to the razor-sharp edge of Wuuthrad. Alduin threw back his head and roared in pain. He tried to swat Sieghard with the injured wing and the Nord got out of the way. Dione was using her rare Daedric arrows to attack. They piece the scales, the burning tips meeting flesh and blood sending up wisps of black smoke. Lucien was commanding phantasms in the shapes of other animals to join in the assault. They were weaker and easily crushed by Alduin, but they provided distraction. Paarthurnax Shouted another jet of blue flame on Alduin. They attacked all at once, and Alduin bellowed in pain.

“Meyz…Meyz mul, Dovahkiin,” Alduin grunted, looking Belinda in the eyes. “You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me! I will outlast, MORTAL!” He shouted that like an insult, like she was a rat living in his home.

“That’s a cheap insult,” Belinda stated, rolling her eyes. She moved to attack, but then Alduin retaliated, clamping his teeth around her and tossing her into a boulder. Everything went dark…


	19. Season Unending

The Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 2nd of Evening Star, 4E201

When a dragon’s teeth goes through anywhere on your body, especially the part of your body containing all of the vital organs, you die. Even if you’re a Planeswalker. It wasn’t rocket science. It was a simple, medical DUH. So the fact that Belinda was alive was a miracle. The fact that moment she woke up and vomited the previous day’s meals and blood was less than miraculous and more of an unpleasant alarm clock. She awoke with a gasp of pain from her stomach and rolled over, pain shooting through every end of her body, and puked all over the floor of the monastery. She groaned miserably, that crushing sense of helplessness and shame flooding as it usually did when she threw up. It was a generally unpleasant feeling and she hated it!

Despite the pain assaulting her, she managed to push through and get a bucket of water, a scrub brush, and rags. She cleaned up her mess. She knew it was night and that she would be an asshole to wake anyone to clean up after her. So she did it herself. After that, she disposed of the rags in one of the braziers outside and dumped the water in the snow. Where else would it go? A bathroom? Not on this bloody plane! She returned to her bed and crawled under the covers, shivering from the icy winds. Fever took hold of her, and she felt cold despite her hot skin. Okay, maybe living that mess for someone else would have been better, she realized. Too late now. What she would give for a pair of soft, fuzzy socks. She sandwiched her head between two pillows, feeling a headache. Thankfully, she blacked out.

She awoke less than an hour later to a large, warm body holding her close. She didn’t care who or what and snuggled closer for the warmth. She still shook and her teeth chattered, but whoever was snuggling her helped. Then a warm, furry body moved, turning over and pressing his front paws to her upper back.

“You should have woken us,” Lucien purred, pawing her back. That felt good.

“Didn’t want to be more of an ass than I usually am,” Belinda responded. “Besides, you all know how much I hate being woken up. Makes sense I try to return the favor. So, what woke you? Cold air? The doors being opened and closed?”

“Neither,” Sieghard answered. “I woke of my own accord, saw the wet floor, and then you shaking. I got Lucien and we got into bed with you.”

“Thanks,” Belinda whimpered. “Fuck, I hate getting sick, even though I find it to be a necessity.”

“Just shut up and rest, little sister,” Sieghard chuckled. “We’ll be with you the rest of the night.”

Belinda nodded and did so, too exhausted to stay awake anymore. When she awoke around noon, Dione was checking on her. As Belinda opened her eyes, the Dunmer looked at her.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Like a fucking dragon tried to rip me in half; how do you think?” Belinda responded.

“No need for snark,” Dione chuckled.

“How the Hell am I even alive?” Belinda questioned.

“A paralytic poison my mom taught me how to make,” Dione replied. “I said she was an amazing alchemist, but I didn’t mention she made a paralytic poison that can slow your body’s heart rate and blood flow. I keep some on hand just in case of emergencies. Unfortunately, it was my only bottle because it’s very hard to make. It took my mom a year to get it just right.”

“She clearly had a lot of a free time on her hands,” Belinda sighed, relaxing a bit.

“Since returning to the Thieves Guild, she’s got even more,” Dione pointed out. “She spent a quarter of a century plotting her revenge and coming up the alchemical formula to make the most powerful paralytic poison known to the peoples of Tamriel.” She finished changing Belinda’s bandages. “You look better. Your wounds have healed better than I expected. Which is crazy because I’m not much of a healer.”

“No, you’re just a good alchemist,” Belinda stated. “Now, what happened to Alduin?” she asked.

“Flew east,” Dione replied. “Paarthurnax is certain he’s gone to Sovngarde.”

“Damn it,” Belinda hissed, “and we don’t know where his portal to Sovngarde is…”

“Paarthurnax was never told where either,” Dione pointed out. “He said he is Alduin’s brother, and therefore would not be trusted with such knowledge. But he knows a dragon who will.”

“Who?” Belinda asked.

“Odahviing.”

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 6th of Evening Star, 4E201

“You want to what?” demanded Balgruuf, who stood upright in shock and anger.

Knew he’d take it well, Belinda thought irritably. “Do I have to repeat myself?” she asked tiredly. She was still sore from where Alduin’s nearly ripped her in half. The scars were silvery in color against her naturally pale skin, but according to Dione, they healed nicely.

“You want to trap a dragon in my palace?” Balgruuf demanded.

“Dragonsreach was built to house a captive dragon,” Dione pointed out, “and we need to capture a dragon to interrogate it. We already have the name of a dragon to lure into the trap. Now we just need the trap.”

“And why would I allow this?” Balgruuf asked. He looked to Belinda. “I know you the Dragonborn and you’ve been doing what you can to stop these dragons, but I must know why.”  
Belinda sighed. “The black dragon that attacked Helgan was Alduin the World-Eater,”

Balgruuf and his brother paled drastically. Proventus was baffled, so Irelith stepped up to explain it to him. “Long ago, Alduin was the dragon who ruled over Skyrim and enslaved the people. He was defeated by people who learned the dragon language.”

“Except they used an Elder Scroll to send him ahead in time,” Belinda pointed out.

“They had hoped that Alduin would be lost forever,” Lucien quickly defended. “They didn’t intend for him to return to time here and now. But the prophecy of his return has been met. Belinda can only defeat him in Sovngarde, but she needs to find Alduin’s portal there and only the dragon Odahviing knows where that’s at.”

“Is there no other way?” Balgruuf asked.

“You’re seriously considering this?” Proventus exclaimed.

Balgruuf sighed. “I am. Alduin is a very real problem,” he responded. “But, there is the problem of the war. Both sides are putting more pressure on me than ever.” He looked to the group. “Whiterun is essential to their campaigns and if either were to attack while we have a dragon locked up, I fear the dragon will not hesitate to seek vengeance for his capture.”

“A fair point,” Sieghard agreed. He had been quietly leaning against beam, not speaking until now. “Unless one side or the other takes Whiterun and surrounding holds or there’s a truce, I don’t think capturing a dragon will be possible.” He pushed himself off the beam. “While I don’t believe either side would, this is looking to be a long winter and things may get pretty desperate. We need to put off the war until further notice.”

“But getting Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius to agree to a truce is like getting Dourhands and Longbeards to agree to a truce,” Lucien mumbled.

“What?” Dione asked.

“Eh, never mind,” Lucien answered. “That’s not important. However, there is someone here that they may both heed. Well, several someone’s. The Greybeards are a neutral party and well-respected in the Empire. They could host both parties. In the past, High Hrothgar was where the Jarls met to vote for the next High King or Queen. All we need to do is get the Greybeards to call the Jarls and they will come. And have Jarl Elisif bring General Tullius as well.”

“Like that’ll happen,” Balgruuf huffed.

“But who would deny orders from the Dragonborn herself?” Lucien asked, looking to Belinda. “They would be stupid not to at least see what she wants. And Ulfric is a Nord and Jarl of Eastmarch. Once he finds out about Alduin, he’ll come easily.”

\---

The Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 12th of Evening Star, 4E201

“This is a bad idea,” Arngeir groaned, pacing nervously.

Belinda rolled her eyes. “I agree,” she started, “but it’s too late to turn back now and it must be done. To be honest, I’m actually tempted to see if the dragons of this world actually eat humans and offer them up to this Odahviing in exchange for his help.” She smirked devilishly, and got a wide-eyed look from Arngeir. “Of for the love of Talos, stop being such a tightass for once in your life, Arngeir. From what Dione and Sieghard have told me of some of these Jarls, I want to punch them in the throat. Jarl Korir of Winterhold is a narrow-minded bastard, and that’s the polite version according to Dione.” She stood and paced. It was a habit she couldn’t be rid of. Her legs would always be restless. “He claims there’s no history to Winterhold anymore! Clearly the man has no sense of history! There’s plenty of it! You don’t need a glowing city to have history!”

“Meanwhile, I’ve hired workers to repair the damn bridge,” Dione pointed out, entering the room. “Seriously, the Great Collapse was over a hundred years. Stop bitching and moaning already. We all have better things to do. For example: There’s plenty of mines that far north and miners who need work will need homes. The Jarl will need to be told that Winterhold is still important to Skyrim. If he’d just open his mind at a centimeter and actually listen to me.”

Belinda chuckled, and first of the Jarls arrived.

\---

The Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 13th of Evening Star, 4E201

Day Two of negotiations and Belinda wanted to kill herself.

It was two days of the Jarls and generals and nobles bitching and moaning. The Empire wanted this and the Stormcloaks wanted that! Then there were demands for compensation for various accidents. Elenwen’s presence made nothing better. She was allowed to stay at Belinda’s leisure, and then Belinda had to talk Galmar and Ulfric down to get them to see reason. Of course, the harpy refused to stay silent and Belinda was about ready to go and set her on fire. That would, of course, help nothing.  
One more word from Emissary Bitch and she’s outta here, Belinda thought, though she surprised herself with further patience and tolerance.

“It’s not the Thalmor burning down Skyrim’s villages,” Elenwen huffed at some pointed.

“Bullshit,” Dione coughed.

“And she’s on our side?” a Nord woman quietly asked General Tullius. Belinda had learned her name was Rikke, Tullius’s right-hand.

Belinda knew the Empire had no love for the Aldmeri Dominion. They had been a problem off and on since the second era. Tullius interrupted the Dragonborn’s thoughts.

“What does the Dragonborn think?” he asked.

She looked up, purple eyes scanning the room. “I’m thinking you’re all a bunch of immature, childish, bull-headed idiots who need to come to an agreement and shut the fuck up before I kill myself and leave you to Alduin. I seriously have a headache. And quite frankly. I could’ve dealt with Alduin by now, but Aedra, Daedra, Sithis, Talos, and whoever the Hell else people worship on this gods forsaken rock forbid that should ever be easy! I have better things to do than spend my Loredas listening to people gripe about this town or that compensation! Here’s an idea: STOP FIGHTING UNTIL EITHER I’M DEAD OR ALDUIN’S DEAD!” She had stood, knocking her chair over. Her voice had caused the monastery to tremble. “Your arguments are invalid! You’ll not get a town without giving up a town and you both want compensation for damages caused by a fucking war. No one is getting anything. You’re all going to go back to your holds, shut the fucking up for a few days, and wait for word of Alduin’s death or my own. Whichever comes first, I’m sure you’ll all welcome it with open arms.”

The room was silent. Only a Dragonborn could command such silence, could command the empire and all of Skyrim to be still and silent. Belinda then looked to Balgruuf.

“Jarl Balgruuf, is the trap in Dragonsreach ready?” she demanded.

“I’ve had my men working on it,” the Jarl answered.

“Good. Let’s go,” Belinda huffed. “I can’t stand another second of this nonsense!” She grabbed her backpack, sword, and staff, and followed the Jarl, Irelith, and Proventus out. Dione, Sieghard, and Lucien followed. Everyone stared after the group as they departed.

“How did you do that?” Proventus asked.

“She’s the Dragonborn,” Sieghard answered. “It’s in her blood to command others.”

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 15th of Evening Star, 4E201

The great chains and holding bars had been dusted, oiled, and ready for use. Everyone was on edge, fearing this dragon that Belinda was about to call. If everything went wrong, Dragonsreach and possibly all of Whiterun would be razed. As she stood on the great porch looking out over the northern plains and the mountains that bordered the hold, she spotted a herd of elk pawing the snow to reach some of the grass beneath. The air was surprisingly warm and the snow wet. Belinda almost smiled. That was a good sign. She would win and this winter would end. She then looked to the endless blue sky.

Here goes nothing, she thought, and Shouted, “OD-AH-VIING!”

The syllables echoed across the world. Wherever Odahviing was, he would hear, and he would come. After all, Shouting a Dragon’s name was essentially a challenge. But after a few minutes, Belinda felt discourage. Had he not been revived? Had another Dragonborn before killed him? Would he be afraid to meet her? But then came a roar.

It was small, so Belinda almost missed it. She looked to Lucien for confirmation and the lynx nodded. “He’s coming,” he assured her.

Another, closer, and then another. Then Odahviing appeared, a streak of vibrant red with snow-colored wings that were spotted with indigo and tints of red. He turned sharply from around the corner of the keep and swooped down.

“Everyone get down!” Irelith shouted.

No one questioned her and ducked. One soldier did not get so lucky. Odahviing scooped him up in his talons and dropped him over the plains. No one knew where he landed. Belinda was sure he was dead. Everyone fled under the roof of the great porch. Belinda back up slowly. She didn’t want to alert Odahviing and make him realize this was a trap. So, she drew Dragonbane. She did not want to use Dragonrend. It felt so wrong using the Shout. It was an unnatural abomination of a Thu’um. Odahviing seemed to…Smirk. He swooped down and landed. Belinda could see his eyes: Like emeralds.

“Well, Dovahkiin, here I am,” he announced. He reached down and tried to bite her in half, but Belinda jumped back.

“Yes, here you are,” Belinda responded, backing up still. “And aren’t you handsome?”

“Handsome, am I?” Odahviing asked, following Belinda into the trap.

“Well, that’s a very beautiful shade of red,” Belinda answered. Just a little further.

“I thank you; but I’m sure you didn’t call me here just to flirt, did you?” Odahviing chuckled. He was now right under the trap. Dione and Sieghard pulled the levers and bar literally dropped on Odahviing’s neck. He screeched in shock and annoyance, and then he was cuffed and chained down.

I can’t believe that actually worked, Belinda thought.

“Damn it,” Odahviing grumbled. He looked to Belinda. “Do you think this is amusing?”

“No, I don’t,” Belinda answered. “I could have used Dragonrend. I’m glad I didn’t have to resort to it. I hate that ‘Shout.’” She came close, moving around so she could look into one of his emerald eyes. “I called you here to interrogate you.”

“To find Alduin?” Odahviing asked.

“I know where he’s flown off to, but I need to know how to get there,” Belinda answered. “Where’s his portal to Svongarde?”

“At his high fane of Skuldafin,” Odahviing answered.

“I-. You’re just telling me?” Belinda questioned. She expected more resistance.

“Many of us have been questioning Alduin’s right to rule,” Odahviing replied. “In secret, of course. None of us dare to challenge him. I doubt any of us could defeat him.”

“Only a Dragonborn could,” Dione muttered.

“In Svongarde,” Belinda added. She was always meant to go. It was her destiny. She hated that word sometimes. “So what’s the catch?” she asked. This could only be so easy.  
“Without the wings of a Dovah, you will never be able to set foot in Skuldafin,” Odahviing answered. “It is a ruin in a natural valley, surrounded by unclimbable mountains to the east.”

“Of course,” Belinda grumbled, looking down. She glanced back up, Odahviing looking at her expectantly. “I won’t force you, though it looks like neither of us have much of a choice. You can say no and stay in there, or you can agree to take me to Skuldafin and have your freedom. Within limits of course: No burning down anything and restrain your hunger to wildlife and not people’s livestock.”

Odahviing lifted his head, appearing thoughtful. Meanwhile, Balgruuf and Irelith looked at Belinda as if she had grown a second head. She didn’t need to be a telepath to know that they thought she had lost all logic. Could she blame them? She had just made a deal with a dragon. She’d think she was crazy too. Dione and Sieghard looked at her expectantly. They knew she could command a dragon, though there was a hint of uncertainty there. Lucien knew for sure and certain that Odahviing would agree to the terms. If there was one thing dragons valued more than dominating other races, it was their freedom.

“Your terms are agreeable, Dragonborn,” Odahviing finally declared. “Release me and I shall take you to Skuldafin.”

Belinda smiled. “Good.”


	20. The Fallen

Skuldafin, the Valus Mountains  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 15th of Evening Star, 4E201

The air rushed by, cold and biting and leaving goose skin across Belinda’s body. However, at the same time, she felt a rush of freedom she never knew. Her booted feet were braced against the lower horns of Odahviing’s head, and she gripped the crowning horns. She looked out over the side of his neck as the silvery, blue-white world passed below. They flew past the Throat of the World, and saw Paarthurnax hovering around the summit, mostly hidden by clouds and an endless snowstorm. Belinda looked to the south, saw the grey-white of the Jeralls and catching only the briefest of glances at Bruma, where stood a statue to the Hero of Kvatch. In the distance, she saw the White-Gold Tower itself. The white trees of the Autumn Forest which dominated the Rift Hold were only visible against the winter colors with the stark black stripes of birch trees. Then they flew over Riften, the waterways frozen over with the children of Honorhall Orphanage skating with their new caretaker. People looked up and pointed at Odahviing stunning red form. She smiled, wondering if people saw the people riding him.

Behind her, Sieghard and Dione held onto a spike and Lucien, helping ensure the lynx would not go flying off Odahviing’s back. Sieghard was terrified. He wasn’t too fond of height. As they passed over Riften, Dione threw up a fist and cheered in delight. Lucien let out a little roar of delight. Belinda let go of Odahviing’s horns and raised her hands. She screamed in delight. This was the most amazing experience of her life, even despite how short-lived it would be. Because the soon came to the mountains bordering Skyrim and Morrowind and Belinda could see the ashen land in the distance, but her eyes were instead taken to Skuldafin below as they flew overhead. Five dragons looked up from their perches across the ruins, and Belinda could swear they were looking accusatorily at Odahviing, the thoughts of “How dare you!” crossing their minds. But Odahviing cared not. Like all red dragons, he was a rebel.

He circled the valley once, giving the heroes a view of Skuldafin and the trials ahead. They saw a dragon priest remove something, closing the portal to Sovngarde to protect his master, Alduin. Soon, Odahviing landed on an open space, the gale caused by his wings brushing away the snow to reveal grass and mountains flowers beneath. The group dismounted him and looked up at the red dragon. He looked to the other dragons present, all of them glaring.

“This is as far as I can take you,” Odahviing told them. “The others would not allow us near the portal. I may be stronger than any of them, but they outnumber me and are powerful in their own rights. I dare not face them.” He looked to Belinda. “I shall wait at the Throat of the World for you…Or Alduin.” He then took to the skies, flying away from Skuldafin.

Belinda sighed and looked ahead. They crossed a stone bridge and a dragon decided to try its luck against them. It swooped down and landed in front of them. He growled at them. Belinda rolled her eyes in annoyance. She drew her sword and staff. The other followed suit. The dragon Shouted ice at them. Lucien threw up a ward, blocking most of it. Dione ducked behind a pillar and drew an arrow to her bow. She jumped out the other side, pulling the bowstring and arrow back. She loosed it, letting it pierce the dragon’s eyes. The dragon roared, head snapping back. Sieghard and Belinda went in, attacking. The dragon, wounded eye shut. It Shouted ice again, but Belinda jumped and rolled out of the way. Sieghard took the blast head-on, shielding his face from the attack. The dragon was about to bite him in half, but Lucien broke a pillar over its back and pinned it down. Belinda them jumped onto its head and shoved her sword through its skull.

They had to fight their way across the exterior ruins, battling Draugr and two more Dragons. It was a hard battle that lasted the rest of the day and through the night. Deathlords armed with Shouts of Unrelenting Force, Fire Breath, and Ice Breath and ebony swords and shields were a major problem. Dione and Sieghard had difficulty keeping up. Belinda was starting to wish they had brought others with them. But would they have stood even more of a chance? A Draugr cut through the back of her leather armor, leaving a gash across her back. She shouted in pain, and Lucien responded by crushing the Draugr with a large, heavy boulder. Belinda groaned in pain and annoyance before looking to Lucien.

“Thanks,” she told him, pupils dilated.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lucien huffed. “We’re still in a danger zone and you’re injured.”

“Yeah…” Belinda took a deep breath and charged into the fray again.

The interior ruins were only so much better. It was a stressful blur of puzzles and traps and more stupid Draugr.

If I see any Draugr after this, it will be too soon, Belinda thought irritably, thrusting her sword through a Draugr and then shoving it off. They made it to the exterior ruins again and fought two more Deathlords before facing off with the Dragon Priest Belinda had seen. That was an even harder battle. They fought until dawn, the remaining two dragons watching the fight with interest. Would they help? Would they come after the priest was dead? Belinda grabbed the mask suddenly and ripped it off, and the Dragon Priest crumbled to dust at her feet. She looked up to the dragon, who then looked away. They weren’t going to try and stop her. She took the priest’s staff and put it into the slot on top of the alter, opening the portal to Svongarde.

“Do you-. Do you want us to come with?” Sieghard asked.

Belinda turned to him. “Of course,” she answered. “You three have helped me through this chaos and I couldn’t imagine going to battle against Alduin in Svongarde without any of you.”

“This will likely be the only time I see Svongarde,” Sieghard sighed. “I should enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Why would this be the only time you see it?” Dione asked.

“For the same reasons as you,” Sieghard answered. “We both belong to Daedra Lords, and our places in death are with them and others of our kind. This will be our only chance to see the wonder of Svongarde.”

“I’m happy with that; I’ll be helping future thieves with their illustrious careers,” Dione chuckled. “But you aren’t content with you aren’t happy with your fate, are you?”

“I want to be in Svongarde, but I love my wife more than all the mead in Svongarde,” Sieghard explained. “She and I are werewolves, and our place is together in Hircine’s realm.”  
“Sieghard, that is the most beautiful and honorable thing anyone could ever say,” Belinda told him. “You’re worthy of Svongarde, beast blood or not.”

“And what of you, Lucien?” Dione asked the lynx.

“Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing I’ve done in years!” Lucien answered.

And then they jumped into the portal…

\---

Svongarde

The sky was breath-taking. There was something of a white sun in the center of the sky, unmoving and did not blind Belinda to see. Then there was the arrays of blues and violets and pinks, wisps of white and silver clouds swirling around while stars glittered. The valley was covered in a thick fog, obscuring the beauty of the land. And of course, the sight of Alduin dipping in and out of the fog to feeding on the souls of the dead. It was a terrible sight, and Alduin always looked a little bigger. Looking hard enough, Belinda could see that his wing had healed. She groaned.

“This is Svongarde?” Dione asked, looking around.

“Aye; I can feel it,” Sieghard answered.

Belinda nodded, looking to the valley. They started moving across the valley, Belinda Shouting away the mist. They started picking up lost soldiers, mostly Stormcloaks and Nord Imperial soldiers. They ran into others, including King Torygg and a bard named Svaknir. The latter recognized Dione as the one who helped him finally reach Svongarde. They joined the growing group pushing the valley. Then Alduin came out them.

“Everyone get down!” Lucien shouted.

Everyone ducked and a Stormcloak soldier was snatched up, screaming as Alduin devoured him. The souls of the dead felt discouraged and afraid. Belinda glared at the dragon, and their eyes met. She could lead him away from Alduin. Lucien must have read her mind and came up to him.

“I’ll lead him away,” he said. “I can see easily through the mist. You must be the one to lead the dead to safety.”

Belinda knelt and hugged him. “Stay alive.”

“I intend to.”

Alduin came out them. Lucien jumped before him and did something Belinda didn’t know he could do: He Shouted.

“FUS-RO-DAH!”

It was a strong enough force to push Alduin back a little. Belinda used Dragonrend on Alduin and knocked him from the sky. Lucien shouted for them to go. He would deal with Alduin, and then he disappeared into the mist. Belinda Shouted away more mist until they came upon a grey-haired man in the same armor as Sieghard. He looked up and stood from the boulder he had been seated on. He was shocked the mist had been cleared away from him. Then he turned to the group, and saw Sieghard.

“Sieghard?!” he exclaimed.

“Kodlak!”

“Are you dead? No; I still sense the beast blood in you,” Kodlak muttered.

“I came here through a portal with the Dragonborn,” Sieghard responded. They heard Alduin and Lucien fighting behind them.

“Not to stress the situation, but perhaps we should hurry to Tsun,” Dione pointed out. “Dragonrend will hold Alduin so long and Lucien can only distract him while he’s grounded.”

“Yes! Let’s!” Kodlak exclaimed.

Belinda took the lead, Shouting away the mist and revealing the path. They soon made it to the hill where the large demigod Tsun stood with his sword, waiting for them. He regarded them and unfold his arms.

“What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor’s gift to the honored dead?” he asked.

Belinda blinked. “I’m here to kick Alduin’s scaly arse,” she answered.

Sieghard slapped his hand to his forehead, groaning while Dione snickered.

“A fateful errand,” Tsun responded. “Now few have chafed to face the Worm since he first set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde’s threshold.” His browed furrowed in irritation. He wanted to take his weapon to Alduin himself. “But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught – perhaps, deep counselled, your doom he foresaw.”

“Doom this, doom that, are the First Tongues at least here so I can get their help?” Belinda asked.

Tsun frowned. “By what right do you request entry?” he demanded.

“I’m the Dragonborn,” Belinda replied, “and I just helped these guys get here. And out there somewhere is one of my friends, whose distracting Alduin so we could make it here with so many people! So if you would please let me inside so I can get some help against Alduin before he kills my cat!”

Tsun chuckled, drawing his sword. “I’m afraid you need to best me first. It’s been too long since I last faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood. Many of your kin are within, the last one Martin Septim.”

“Are. You. KIDDING ME?!” Belinda wasn’t stupid. She couldn’t fight this guy! He was twice her size, was wielding a claymore in one hand and a shield in the other, and she was certain he knew how to Shout. Belinda was screaming internally as this was a major problem.

“Well?” Tsun was also not a very patient person.

I could use that to my advantage, she thought. She drew Dragonbane, Dione and Sieghard going wide-eyed. Everyone came forward to see the battle. For the Nords, this was an important battle to see. The two started to circle each other, each waiting for the other to make the first strike. It was, no surprise, Tsun who struck first. His movements were powerful albeit slow, and he came in shield-first. It was on his right arm, so Belinda side stepped to her left and spun around and slashed him from behind. His injuries healed right up. Right, she remembered, he’s a god and his role is not to kill, but to ensure those who enter Sovngarde are worthy. So Belinda did something daring, something she only saw in a video game. I wonder if Hyrule is real. I should try to find it. She withdrew her sword. That got people talking. Tsun raised a brow at her. I really hope this move is legit, Belinda thought. If not, well the chances were never really in anyone’s favor with this. It was a high risk, high reward move. With a high probability of death.

Belinda raised her fists, body tense. She could hope that Tsun would not see what she was doing. Then he came, raising his sword to perform a downward strike. Belinda uttered a single word of power from Slow Time, grabbed the hilt of her sword and drew it out. As she drew it, she slashed upward diagonally, cutting Tsun deeply before leaping to her left and rolling behind before running him through. The time resumed and she paled. Tsun merely shrugged and pulled away from the blade. His injury healed, thank the gods, and he turned to her.

“That was an excellent technique,” Tsun said.

“Yeah; sorry about using a Shout to gain the upper hand there,” Belinda muttered. “I panicked because I had never used that one before.”

“It’s fine; you are worthy of entering Shor’s Hall,” Tsun responded. “Now, I must face those who seek entry.”

“Um, can Sieghard and Dione come with me?” Belinda asked.

“If they can best me,” Tsun answered.

“Don’t worry Bells; we’ll wait,” Dione pointed out. “We were not meant to see inside.”

“And I want to catch up with Kodlak,” Sieghard added. “If you see Ysgramor, give him my regards.”

Belinda nodded. “I’ll be back soon,” she told them.

With care, she crossed the Whalebone Bridge to Shor’s Hall. As she finished crossing, King Torygg began crossing. Belinda then ended Shor’s Hall, met with a golden light and an extravagant feast. Cows and boar roasted over open flame and banners hung from the walls, bearing different crests and insignias. Heroes, warriors and mages alike, men and women alike, walked, talked, feasted, drank, and battled through the hall, and Belinda felt like she was in the fabled Valhalla. This is what she envisioned it to be like. Bards played music. A large, blond Nord man, no, and Atmoran man, approached Belinda. He had dirty blond hair and matching beard, and sky-blue eyes. He was muscular and had a large nose that had been broken multiple times. He wore ancient Nordic armor lined with fur. Belinda then saw Wuuthrad. She knew who this was. Ysgramor himself.

“Welcome, Dragonborn!” he greeted. “Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor’s command, we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale’s dark mist.” He gestured to his right, indicating three people standing by the far end of the table. “But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe: Gormlaith the Fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the Valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim. Go to them.”

In that time, Torygg finally entered. Ysgramor greeted him while Belinda went up to the First Tongues. The three looked up and to her. Gormlaith was scrutinizing her, Hakon looked uncertain, and Felldir looked as if he had been expecting her. Belinda felt the pressure on her.

“So you did see me?” she asked Felldir.

“Yes. I thought you were a…A spirit,” the old man answered. “I had a feeling you were the one meant to defeat the World-Eater.”

“What about…?” Hakon started to ask.

“Useless and was only cared about his own interests,” Felldir answered. “Now, to the matter at hand.”

“Yes! We must defeat that vile worm!” Gormlaith shouted, drawing her sword.

Oh, good to see that Alduin killing her didn’t affect her willingness to fight him, Belinda thought.

Felldir stood. “Yes, let us go.”

“And this time win without an Elder Scroll,” Hakon pointed out.

“We have a willing Dragonborn, we have Dragonrend, and we’re in Sovngarde,” Felldir stated. “We will win.”

They left Shor’s Hall and went across the Whalebone Bridge where the others waited. Kodlak was the last to go into Shor’s Hall, but he was not moving to challenge Tsun for his right to enter. He and Sieghard were deep in conversation and Dione had moved away from them to give them privacy. Belinda went to her fellow Planeswalker.

“Any sign of Lucien?” she asked. She was worried about the lynx.

“Not yet,” Dione answered.

“I shouldn’t have let him go alone,” Belinda muttered.

“We needed you,” Dione pointed out. “We still need you.” She looked to the First Tongues, now standing at the foot of the stone steps. “They’re waiting for you.”

Belinda nodded and went to stand behind them.

“First, we must clear this dreaded mist!” Gormlaith shouted.

“Clear Skies, together!” Hakon responded.

Together, the First Tongues and Belinda Shouted: “LOK-VAH-KOOR!”

The mist began to dissipate. Sieghard, Dione, and Kodlak came down to help fight. Alduin restored the mist, so Belinda and the First Tongues Shouted again. Alduin restored the mist, sounding irritated.

“He’s weakening!” Gormlaith shouted.

“Once more!” Hakon responded.

“LOK-VAH-KOOR!” the four shouted a third time, and this time the mist dispersed entirely.

“I grow tired of these games!” Alduin bellowed, and appeared at last. He landed on a boulder and spat out something crumpled and bloody. It landed at Felldir’s feet. Belinda went to it. It was Lucien. Belinda eyes widened in horror, but it was soon replaced with unbridled rage.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!” she screamed, and the Shouted slammed into Alduin, ensnaring him not in blue light, but an angry, blood red. Her eyes shone in the same red light as she drew her sword with her right hand, dragging it from its sheath and twirling it to it fit comfortably in her hand. She had hit the limit with Alduin and charged in. They then fought, Dragonbane cleaving easily through Alduin’s scales. The First Tongues, Sieghard, Dione, and Kodlak joined in the battle. Dione and Hakon stayed behind, firing arrows while Felldir wielded magic.

Alduin unleashed fire upon his foes, but they were many in number and dealing hard blows. They were unforgiving and unrelenting, especially the Dragonborn. He had struck a nerve with her. The cat. He saw past the warriors and saw that the bloody thing he spat out was now gone. TRICKED! Perhaps the cat had intended that. A bolt of pain shot through his right as the Dragonborn shredded one of the leathery membranes. She had been holding back; well, that or she hadn’t known her strength. Or maybe the cat hadn’t meant for Belinda to go berserk and it had been a ploy to make Alduin think he’d one. Whatever it was, the cat had to still be alive somewhere.

Alduin reared, bringing himself to his full height on his back legs. Standing like this was difficult and caused a lot of stress on the legs, but it made him larger and more intimidating. It didn’t faze Belinda. She charged in, seeing Alduin’s attacking too late. Alduin jumped and used his wings to spin him around. His tail hit everyone close to him and knocked them back. Belinda hit a boulder and felt something break. Several somethings. Her whole ribcage she was sure. It knocked her back to her senses as Alduin landed, cracking the ground beneath his feet. Steam hissed through the cracks. Dragonrend faded away from Alduin’s body.

“Foolish mortals; did you think you can defeat me?” Alduin demanded.

Belinda winced, fighting pain and spitting out blood. She stood. “That…Is the most clichéd line in the history of forever, you condescending asswipe!”

“I wonder how much more you can take before you break,” Alduin snarled at her, coming closer. Belinda braced herself against the boulder she had crashed into. She couldn’t take much more of this. Everything hurt too much. Then Alduin surprised her, shifting from his dragon form into that of a horned man with long, black nails, wings, and a tail. He wore what looked to be ebony plate armor, though it was likely his scales. He pinned Belinda to the boulder, and she hissed in pain as the hard stone pressed against the wound on her back.

Fuck, I forgot about that, she thought, gasping.

“I knew of another miserable little Dragonborn whelp like you,” Alduin snarled, chocking Belinda. “He served me faithfully until had met Hermaeus Mora. I can see you’ve already heard that wretch’s whispers. What did he tell you?” Belinda tried to lift Dragonbane, but Alduin grabbed her right wrist and snapped it like a twig. Belinda screamed in pain, trying her hardest not to drop her sword.

Dione drew back a special arrow. She had collected quite a few dragon bones and asked Eorlund to craft some arrows with them. She knew that Alduin could only be harm if he was under Dragonrend, but immortal or no, no one was immune to the bones of their own kind. She released the dragonbone arrow and it hit Alduin in the neck, making him roar in annoyance and pull away from Belinda. He quickly shifted back into his dragon form before shaking his head. He saw that she had moved away from the boulder and lunged at her…Until he went right through her and over a cliff into the chasm between Shor’s Hall and Sovngarde’s valley. Belinda was still next to the boulder, invisibility shimmering away. She was gasping for breath as Lucien ran to her.

“You…you little fucker,” she gasped at him, her voice hoarse due to Alduin nearly choking her. “I thought your furry ass was dead!”

“Funny thing about phantasms,” Lucien chuckled. He appeared have an injured leg though. “They have some substance.” He looked Belinda over. “You definitely have a lot of broken bones.”

“I noticed that,” Belinda answered. She grabbed Dragonbane with her left hand and struggled to her feet. She pulled her broken wrist close. “And I’m an idiot for forgetting about earlier wounds.”

“We’ve all done that,” Lucien pointed out.

Dione, Sieghard, Kodlak, and the First Tongues ran over.

“Thanks for the rescue Dione,” Belinda greeted. “What did you use to get Alduin off me?” she questioned.

Dione produced a Dragonbone arrow. “Arrows made from the bones of Alduin’s kin,” she answered.

“That’s…fucking genius actually,” Belinda chuckled.

“Um, what about Alduin?” Sieghard wondered.

They all went to the side of the cliff and looked into the eternity below. They saw nothing but shimmering mist and lightning. Actually, the lightning was quite disconcerting. Everyone paled. They then saw an orange glow, one that came closer and brighter.

“That’s not good,” Gormlaith muttered, and they backed away as a pillar of flame exploded from the chasm and hit the sky.

The sky turned blood-red with smoky-black clouds. Fire and brimstone rained from the sky, smashing into Shor’s Hall and punching holes into the building. Some hit the Whalebone Bridge, leaving cracks until the bridge crumbled away into the void. They heard a roar and Alduin climbed out of the chasm, red eyes glow with glowing blood dripping from them. Red acid foamed and dripped from his mouth, scoring the ground. He was bigger, wings ending in tatters and scales cracked with red light. He had more spikes on his body, all looking like rusted iron. He glared virulently at the group and roared, spitting the bloody-red acid at them. The acid burned clothes, armor, and skin. Lucien hissed, backing up as some got on his paw and burned the fur and the skin beneath.

He tried snapping at them, but they backed away. They scattered, trying to avoid the falling fire and brimstone. Trees erupted into flame and there were craters everyone stone hit. The various streams that flowed through the valley dried up. There wasn’t many places to hide. Tsun came and tried to help with the battle. Alduin was destroying Sovngarde. Such a crime would not be tolerated, and Shor had ordered him to go forth.

“Alduin, you will stop this at once!” Tsun bellowed.

“And who are you to order me?” Alduin asked, voice warped. “You are nothing but lowly door guard for Shor.” He chuckled darkly. “Now arriving souls are more vulnerable than ever.”

Though the sky did not return to normal, it stopped raining fire and brimstone. Belinda had to act now and snuck up to Alduin. She had to get on his back. Hopefully Tsun could distract the dragon a little more. She just wanted a chance. Tsun attacked, he and Alduin battling head-to-head. It made Alduin’s tail lash dangerously, and one of the spikes on his tail cut through the leather over her chest, running deep enough to making a light cut. She cursed but continued on. She climbed carefully up one of Alduin’s legs, hissing and whimpering as she used her injured wrist. Finally, she was on Alduin’s back, and he noticed.

Alduin’s shouted red flame at Tsun, weakening him before taking flight. Belinda grabbed a spike with her hand. She let her injured hand dangle useless. Soon, Alduin began to glide over the valley. Belinda began moving up his body until the dragon indicated he was going to do a roll. She turned so her back was to Alduin and reached under one of his more plate-like scales and grabbed on with both hands. It felt like that were on fire as her injured hand being strained sent jolts of agony through her arm. She screamed until Alduin was right-side-up and Belinda flipped onto her back, resulting in cuts to her back and her earlier injury opening. She forced herself back up and looked at her hands. They hand but scored. She looked to Alduin’s damaged wing. If all the membrane was completely torn, he wouldn’t able to fly even if not in Dragonrend’s hold. Speaking of which…  
“Joor…Zah-Frul!” She hit him with the Shout, making him take a nosedive. I should have thought that one through, she thought. She moved to each membrane and cut through them. She almost slipped through once and had to be more careful. Then, they hit the ground. She flew off behind him as Alduin skid across the ground. Belinda lay where she had fallen, beaten up. Her head was cracked open and bleeding. The vision in her right eye was red and she wiped it away. She stumbled over to her sword, which was embedded in the ground and yanked it free of the dirt. She coughed and puked blood. Looking around, she saw nothing but the chaos her battle with Alduin had caused, and then she looked over to where Alduin was getting up, still in Dragonrend’s grip. He glared at her. He, too, was weakened.

He turned to her fully, though standing was harder and his right leg dragged uselessly. “So,” he rumbled. “It comes down to this…” More acid dripped from his maw. Belinda could see his right flank was open, but she planned to go for the head.

“Right. Last chance. Good luck,” she responded through blood and exhaustion. She readied herself, breathing heavily. She took another deep breath and Shouted: “Fus…RO-DAH!” The force shredded the ground further before blasting Alduin in the face. “WULD-NAH-KEST!” Belinda Shouted immediately after. Alduin’s head snapped back, and then Belinda was right there. She jumped, grabbed the horn on the front of his muzzle with her injured hand, and pulled herself onto his head. She cried in pain as she did, and then twirled her sword in hand and plunged it into Alduin’s skull.

Alduin roared throwing back his head. Belinda was thrown off, pulling her sword out. She landed on her feet with a loud, painful CRACK as her left leg broke. She cried out and fell forward into the ground. She rolled onto her back, watching as Alduin cracked up more.

“Zu’u unslaad!” he bellowed. “Zu’u nis oblaan!” His scales shattered and flew in different directions, revealing a smoky beast within. He screeched, looking to a wing before shattering completely…


	21. Home

Sovngarde

Belinda opened her eyes to a soft light and two people kneeling beside her. She was sure she was dying. She could tell it wasn’t Dione or Sieghard or any of the others. There two were different. One was a man with kind, blue eyes and brown hair, dressed in regal Dragonbone armor, the crest of the empire on the breastplate and a red cloak training behind him. There was some Nord and Dunmer accents to his otherwise Cyrodiilic appearance. He had a kind and crooked smile. The other was a woman with black hair like hers, worn in a side braid, eyes more lilac than a deep amethyst, and fair skin, her face tarnished only by a long scar that ran the length of the left side of her face and just barely missing her eye. She was a cross between Nord and Cyrodiilic and wore ancient, mithril armor with a tunic over the cuirass. It had a bright red diamond over the chest. She raised a hand, which shone with soothing white-blue light.

“Will she live?” the man asked.

“She will have, for the days to come,” the woman responded.

Belinda could feel her body being mended, each bone setting into place and wounds healing. The man took her wrist and there was a crack and the Dragonborn howled in pain. There was a cool, soothing sensation that made the pain go away. Her hand was healed, but there be a lot of pain still. Most of her wounds healed with little to no scarring. Too late for the one on her back through. It was a clean scar through. Everything began to feel better and she sighed in relief. She looked to the strangers, granted that they shouldn’t be so strange to her. They were her ancestors after all.

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“Of course, dear,” the Hero of Kvatch responded. “You’ve suffered enough injuries, I should think.” She helped Belinda to her feet.

The man, Martin Septim, rose as well.

Belinda looked around, surveying the damage. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry, another Great Whale will soon join the skies of Sovngarde and his bones will replace the bridge,” Tsun assured, approaching. “You’ve done a mighty deed today, one that will be sung in Shor’s Hall until the end of time. When your time at last comes, will you join us in Sovngarde, Planeswalker?” he asked.

“Hmm, spending eternity in Sovngarde, that is so tempting,” Belinda answered.

“So, I guess that’s a no?” Tsun questioned, raising a brow.

“Fuck no! Of course I want to spend eternity in this plane’s version of Val-fucking-halla!” Belinda responded.

Martin and the Hero of Kvatch laughed.

“Belinda!” Dione called. She, Sieghard, and Lucien came running over. Belinda smiled. Kodlak and the First Tongues came over behind them.

“You did it!” Lucien cheered. “I’m so proud of you!” He and Belinda hugged tight.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” Belinda pointed out.

“When you are ready to rejoin the living, let me know,” Tsun told them, and returned to his post.

Belinda then turned to Kodlak. “I’m sorry this made you have to wait long to enter Shor’s Hall,” she apologized.

“Dear girl, I got to play a part in the legend,” Kodlak responded. “I think I can wait a little while longer.”

“As can we all,” Ysgramor added.

“Ysgramor!” Sieghard and Kodlak exclaimed.

“Wow, two grown men reduced to children meeting their idol,” Belinda chuckled.

Sieghard gave her a dad look. That made Kodlak chuckle and say, “Alright now. You’ve all been here a while. It’s time for you all to go home.”

Belinda sighed. “He’s right,” she agreed. “Staying here will only ensnare us. We’ll never leave!” She then turned to Tsun. “We’re ready to go home. All of us.” Sieghard lifted up Lucien and wrapped an arm around Belinda’s shoulders. Dione hugged her.

“Say hello to the others for me,” Kodlak told Sieghard.

“I will.”

“And congratulations.”

“For what?”

“You’ll see.”

Tsun turned to the four, and his eyes fell on Belinda. “Return now to Nirn with this boon from my Lord Shor,” he said, passing a light to her. Three words of power formed, translated, and were defined in her mind. “A Shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need.”

“Hail the Dragonborn!” the souls of the Honored Dead cheered.

The cheering faded away as Tsun Shouted at the four: “Nahl…DAAL-VUS!”

Golden light enveloped them like the closing of a flower…

\---

The Throat of the World  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 17th of Evening Star, 4E201

The golden light unfolded from around them, soon dispersing on the wind. The skies above and surrounding the summit of the Throat of the World were clear, allowing the colors of dawn to be visible for miles around. The sun was rising over the Valus Mountains, bringing gold to the orange, pinks, blue, and lilac, making stars faded away. Belinda opened her eyes to see Paarthurnax and Odahviing looking at her expectantly. She went up to them, sighing in relief and smiling.

“It is done,” she reported.

Paarthurnax nodded solemnly. “I will mourn him in my own time,” he told her. “He was, after all, my brother.”

Belinda hugged his snout. “You can mourn him whenever you damn well please,” she whispered, and then pulled away. “In the meantime, you deserve a better name than Paarthurnax. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What would you name me then, Dovahkiin Thurii?” Paarthurnax asked.

“I will rename you Zeyiizyol,” Belinda answered. “My Brother of Fire and Ice.”

“I will treasure the name you have gifted to me,” Zeyiizyol said, bowing his head. “I think you best address the other Dovah.”

Belinda and the other turned, seeing many dragons perched on boulder. Belinda paled, making a weird, strangled, screechy sound from her throat as she did. Then the words came to her and she relaxed. She stepped forward and raised her hands, shouting, “Alduin mahlaan!”

“SAHROT THUR QAHNARAAN!” the dragons responded. “DOVAHKIIN LOS OK KRIID! THU’UMII LOS NAHLOT! MU LOS VOMIR!”

Dragons started circling the summit, breathing fire and ice. Sieghard and Dione watched in fear. Lucien sat back and licked a paw. Several minutes went by and dragons took flight and soared away. Soon, it was just Belinda, Sieghard, Dione, Lucien, Zeyiizyol, and Odahviing. Sieghard and Dione relaxed, the former looking to Lucien and asking, “How are you calm?!”

“Bells just defeated Alduin; what dragon would even dare right now?” Lucien responded.

“He has a point,” Dione chuckled.

“Nice to see you’re so amused,” Sieghard grumbled.

Zeyiizyol and Odahviing chuckled. For now, everyone just wanted to relax, and bask in their victory.

\---

Skyhaven Temple, the Reach Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 24th of Evening Star, 4E201

They stopped in Whiterun, Sieghard saying he would take word to the Jarls and have him forward messages across Skyrim of Alduin’s defeat. There would celebrations. In addition, Sieghard also mentioned he had some business to take care of and let the women and Lucien continue to Skyhaven alone. They made surprising time on their feet, arriving at Skyhaven only a week after leaving the summit of the Throat of the World. Using it would have taken longer. They entered, seeing a few new faces reading, training, and having quick meals. Some were older, walking around in full Akaviri armor with matching shields and blades, moving comfortably and sharing laughs with Delphine and Esbern about good old times and how they should have listened to Esbern. Older Blades, ready to pass their knowledge and training onto newer generations.

“Dragonborn!” Delphine exclaimed.

All the Blades looked to Belinda in weathered, damaged leather armor.

“I heard you flew away from Whiterun riding a dragon,” Delphine pointed out. “A bit theatric, don’t you think?”

“One-hundred percent true,” Belinda confirmed, “and I wasn’t aiming for theatrics. Odahviing and I made a little deal. He has his freedom within limits and he would help me against Alduin. It also happens this help has been extended to him helping me whoop the ass of anything I need help fighting.”

Blink. Blink.

“Um, that’s…Good? I think,” Delphine muttered. She bit her lip, and then took a deep breath. “There is…Something…Else…”

It was Belinda’s turn to blink. Somehow, she knew she would not like this. “What?” she asked.

“We know about Paarthurnax,” Delphine answered. “You have to understand, he committed several atrocities that he cannot be forgiven for. He was Alduin’s right-hand.”

“I’m well aware of his crimes,” Belinda pointed out. “We had spoken at length about it before.”

“Then you understand that he must die for those crimes?” Delphine asked.

Knew I wasn’t going to like this, she thought. “You realize Paarthurnax is no more, correct?” she asked. She doesn’t know. She’s never even seen Paarthurnax. And the Greybeards won’t let the Blades up to the summit.

“When did this happen?” Esbern questioned.

“Alduin killed him for treason and I ended up absorbing his soul,” Belinda responded. That part was definitely the lie. The part about Paarthurnax being no more technically wasn’t. “I’ve decided to use the summit as a meditation and training ground for my Shouts and education into my natural language. Odahviing and another dragon named Zeyiizyol have agreed to teach me.” Belinda had to maintain a calm, neutral face as she lied. She maintained her eye contact and refrained from doing anything that would alert the blades to her lie. It was very hard for to do, considering how she was usually fidgety and restless even if she was telling the truth. Well, okay, it wasn’t all a big fat lie because Odahviing and Zeyiizyol had really agreed to help teach and train her. She just hoped the Blades bought it. She could feel her anxiety kicking in.

“Well, I guess we don’t have any problems then,” Delphine stated. “Now we can celebrate Alduin’s end.”

“You do that; I’m going back to Whiterun and waiting out this sodding winter,” Belinda responded. They left Skyhaven. Belinda had no intentions of returned.

“That was so shitty,” Dione grumbled.

“I know; they’re on their own now,” Belinda pointed out. “I’ve played my part and I am so done!”

Lucien and Dione agreed.

\---

Whiterun, Whiterun Hold  
Skyrim, Nirn  
The 31st of Evening Star, 4E201

They arrived back in Whiterun just in time for the New Life Festival. All of Whiterun was decorated with ribbon and tinsel with bards at every major corner. The people, of course, had started drinking and dancing and celebrating days ago as Alduin was dead. Even the Khajiit merchants had been allowed into the city to celebrate with the people. Dione had been working on something since she, Belinda, Sieghard, and Lucien left the Throat of the World, and she planned to sing it tonight at Jorrvaskr. Belinda hadn’t known the Dunmer was a bard, and said bard slipped into her room in Belinda’s house to practice and rehearse the song she had written. Belinda decided a bath and a fresh change of clothes was in order.

She filled a tub and used arcane fire to heat the water before stepping in. She scrubbed her hair and skin clean with bath sugars and soap, washing away weeks’ worth of blood, sweat, dirt, and…Actually, she didn’t want to know what exactly that on her leg. The water and tub were now filthy and Belinda drained the tub and washed it. Then refilled it with fresh water and this time she properly relaxed. An hour passed as her hair dried. Then she finally got out of the tub and dried off. She looked at herself in the vanity mirror. She had forgotten what she looked like under all that dirt and grim. There was a knock.

“Who is it?” Belinda asked, starting to brush her hair.

“Lucien and Dione.”

“Come in!”

The two did so.

“You done hogging the bath?” Lucien asked. “I need to have to get my fur nice and shiny by tonight!”

Belinda laughed. “I’ll draw you a warm bath.”

They spent the afternoon washing up and getting ready. Around five, Sieghard came saw them all dressed up, sort of. Belinda wore clothes from her world: A pair of blue jeans that flared around her calves, a silvery-grey, long-sleeved shirt with a V-neckline; plain black boots, and a soft, purple vest. Lucien wore a brand new cloak, same color as the old, the hood over his head. Dione wore her Archmage’s robes, which were dark grey-blue with white fur. Likely the most formal thing she had in her pack. Sieghard had simply polished buffed his armor, making the three before him see their reflections in it.

“Hey Sieghard,” Belinda greeted.

“Hello,” Sieghard responded. “Now, before we go to Jorrvaskr, I have a gift for Belinda.”

Belinda tilted her head and both Sieghard and Dione took her down to the stables. Lucien trotted along.

“What are you lot up to?” Belinda demanded, being pulled her into the paddock.

“Belinda Scale; we present to you Queen Alfsigr,” Sieghard answered, the stable own leading the large, black warhorse out to them. “Your very own horse.”  
Belinda gasped. “My own horse? Really?!” She hugged Sieghard, then Dione, then Lucien, then the stable master, and finally Queen Alfsigr. She was all bubbly and excited. She’d always wanted her own horse. Now she had one.

\---

Later that night in Jorrvaskr, Dione stood on a table, her lute in her hands. Everyone quieted down to listen to the Dunmer. Her fingers skillfully plucked the strings and she began singing:

“Alduin’s wings, they did darken the sky.  
His roar fury’s fire and his scales sharpened scythes.

“Men ran and they cowered,  
And they fought and they died.  
They burned and the bled as they issued their cries:

“‘We need saviors to free us from Alduin’s rage.  
Heroes on the field of this new war to wage!

“‘And if Alduin wins, man is gone from this world.  
Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled.’

“But then came the Tongues on that terrible day.  
Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray.

“And all heard the music of Alduin’s doom.  
The sweet song of Skyrim:  
Sky-shattering Thu’um.

“And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin’s rage.  
Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new age.

“If Alduin’s eternal, then eternity’s done.  
For his story is over, and dragons are gone.”

It was in that moment, Belinda knew where she was.  
She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading "The Dragonborn Epic, Vol. 1: Skyrim. If you enjoyed this, please check out my DeviantArt profile or even my YouTube Channel under the name GamerDragon13. I post vids every weekday and am currently playing "The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion." I will write about the Hero of Kvatch someday, but not yet. Follow me on Tumblr and Twitter, also under GamerDragon13 and keep an eye out for "The Dragonborn Epic, Vol. 2: Civil War."


End file.
